Parallels
by fishcatfishcat
Summary: An AU where Peeta Mellark wakes up in the Capitol, the day the games begin, finding semen in his boxers, a stranger in his shower and no recollection of the past few days. Who is this person, did he sleep with Peeta and why does he have memory loss? Lemons for future content MxM
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The sun filters through a patrician in the curtains, casting the dark bedroom with a dim light. As I turn over, soft silk slips against my bare chest, relaxing me, pulling me further into peaceful sleep. But I can't. Today I go into the games. Today I have to protect Katniss Everdeen because we know I won't survive.

Sighing, I sit up, pressing the button on the remote that opens the curtains, and look out at the hundreds of people walking the streets of the Capitol. Suddenly, I resent them. They walk so calmly along pristine paths when they don't realise that real people are being slaughtered because of them_. _I pick up the remote and change the window to a golden-orange sunset, sick of seeing what's really beyond the glass.

As I stand up I realise that I never usually sleep topless. I'm not ashamed of my body, if anything I'm quiet proud of my frame. Nonetheless, I always sleep with a shirt on. As I walk I realise my pants are moist. I'm used to collecting sweat during the night, but this feels... Odd. I look down and see I have semen on my naval. Is it semen? I wipe some off with my finger, it smells like semen. I remember the many times I've tried my own in order to see what it tastes like. Was this going to taste the same? I never liked mine, it was too... Bitter? Salty? Either way I didn't like it that much. I put my wet forefinger on my tongue and saw that it did taste different. It has that (Bitter? Salty?) taste to it, but it's more subtle than mine. Could it have come from somebody else?

What are you doing, Peeta? This is ridiculous. You wake up after a wet dream and think you've slept with somebody. Just because you're desperate to suck cock doesn't mean that your imminent death gets you any. I use the rest of my fingers to eat the cum on me. I feel my penis start to firm. I stroke my semi-erect shaft through the thin fabric of my pants. Blood pulses into my dick until it hardens so much that it pulls on the elastic, trying to get out.

I grab the waistband and pull it over my boner, letting it swing out freely. I feel my foreskin as it recedes and the head gets bigger. I glide my fingers over the veins in my shaft. Then I'm grasping the end of my member and pulling it as far back as it will go until it gets painful, then pushing it forward again, releasing it, in a slow steady rhythm. I continue this, gradually increasing tempo, until I'm pumping hard and fast, letting moans escape under my breath. I feel my balls tingle, I pump faster, nearly there.

"_cough cough,_" I hear from somewhere behind me. But I've already dumped my load on the black marble floor. I let out a small "ah..." as the pleasure washes over me. I turn around and see nobody is behind me, it must have come from the bathroom. I look back on the floor where my seed is spilled. The white really stands out against the black. I take my boxers off and drop them on the mess, using my foot to mop it up, my now flaccid penis flopping from side to side. All that's left is a smudge, not nearly as prominent.

I walk to the en-suite door, remembering that the cough came from inside there. And hear the shower running. Luckily, the doors in the Capitol open smoothly, without a squeak. Unlike the ones back home, made with rusty hinges.

Opening the door slightly, I look through the small crack. Somebody stands in the shower cubicle, their muscular figure blurred by the condensation on the glass. Through the steamy haze I can only see the person is male. _Male. _What is he doing here? I try not to think what is blatant. There has to be some other explanation as to why he's here. Naked, in my shower, when I should find somebody else's semen in my boxers. Oh no. The images are already in my head. Him straddling me. Stroking his hard penis. Dumping his load.

Are these images or memories? I try to remember but nothing solid comes to mind. I can _imagine _what happened, but that's different. Why can't I remember? I try to remember two days ago. Nothing. The last thing I can remember is... is... It's hard to find which memory was most recent, they're all a blur. And now I've slept with some guy who I don't even know. Did I even sleep with him?

His district must be relaxed about gay people. At the seam it's considered wrong to be gay, at least that's what my mother taught me. She always told me that you had to be a man to live in district 12, you had to be a man to work the mines and you had to be a man to have children. This would confuse me because aren't homosexuals men anyway? She would slap me across the face if I said that to her, the purple bruise on my cheek when I was seven years old a reminder. Of course, getting beatings from my mother wasn't unusual. She'd always find something I'd done wrong, burned bread, dirty dishes, like she got a kick out of hitting me. Nobody talked about it, not even my brothers, I had no clue if it was just me or them too. Sometimes I'd think I'd seen a bruise or black eye on them, but I dared not ask. I wanted to rebel, to get back at her. I didn't know how to that wouldn't get me another black eye, maybe a broken bone. I decided that if I saw a boy or man it would be okay to be attracted to him. It was my own little rebellion.

Realizing I'm standing naked I run to my wardrobe. I pull on fresh clothes and sprint out the door. Jogging downstairs I see Effie sitting at the table finishing a pain au chocolat. I grab a seat next to her and wolf down four sausages, a slice of toast and two cups of orange juice. After the third sausage she starts questioning my table manners, but I keep her at bay by telling her I need to gather strength. As important as that is, the real reason is that I'm eating quickly is because I want to leave before the guy finishes his shower and comes downstairs.

I stand up, hinting to Effie that I want to leave. She gets the message and leads me to the lift. We stand next to each other, facing what has been my home for the past few days, while Effie starts a lecture on the importance of finding food and shelter. How ignorant can she be? Haymitch had drilled into mine and Katniss' heads that we must find water first. I nod and agree with her, hoping to shut her up but that just makes her go more. Normally I'd be able to find a way of shutting her up, but my visitor has got my brain occupied otherwise.

Remembering she hasn't pressed the button already, Effie presses the only button higher than 12: the roof. On the other end of the floor, at the top of the stairs I see a foot stand on the top step. As the person descends I notice he has a tribal tattoo on his right ankle. I quickly distract Effie by asking why Katniss isn't here, while the doors close. She looks at me confused and doesn't reply for a long few seconds.

"Peeta, you're a Career," she says, as if it was obvious.

"I'm a _what?_"

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**A/N: Okay, so there it is. I hope you all enjoy. (review pleeeease and I'll give you love)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The elevator doors open before Effie can explain and she's already strutting halfway towards the hovercraft. I start a slow walk, giving myself time to think. Maybe deciding to become a Career is one of those things I can't remember from the past few days. That doesn't explain the stranger in my bathroom. Unless...

Too late. I'm standing directly beneath the hovercraft. I'm taken aboard, implanted with a tracker and taken to the arena. The only theory for anything I've come up with is that the Gamemakers have wiped my recent memories and replaced them with new ones as a way to confuse me. I'm not even sure they can do that or why. Perhaps they want me with the Careers and not with Katniss, despite her being my best option for safety. After all, she's trying to portray us as star-crossed lover which will give the Capitol entertainment.

What the hell, how do I know Katniss is doing that that? I try to think how I know that but the more I try the harder it gets. Is it one of the past few day's memories resurfacing or is it a memory given to me by the Gamemakers? Why is it so confusing? I should be focusing on the games. You _should _be focusing on the games, shouldn't you, Peeta? That's what they want, whoever did this to you, to confuse you. So you've got to get it together.

What are you going to do as soon at the countdown gets to zero? Run. What are you going to find first and most importantly? Water. Then what are you going to do? Find a place to camp and camouflage it, then hunt. I continue quizzing myself, surprised at how many things I remember like which plant would prevent a cut from infection, different snare mechanisms and various other survival techniques that would help me win. I start planning for different types of arenas. Distracting me from what's in the back of my brain. Then the hovercraft starts slowing.

I'm led down a long corridor, accompanied by two Peacekeepers. They lead me into a small room with a glass tube in the corner, where Portia stands.

"Oh, Portia!" I say, running and hugging her, eyes stinging. The Peacekeepers leave the room.

"Hey, we'll have none of that. I'm going to see you in a few weeks, or there'll be hell to pay, you hear me?" she says, comforting me. Weird, usually I'm the one comforting other people. I calm down and after showing me my uniform Portia explains that the jacket material reflects body heat so I'm supposed to expect cold nights. She turns around so I can get changed. As I slip my leather boots on I notice I don't have a district token. It was my own responsibility to get one but I still feel... I don't know. I turn around and tell Portia she can look.

"Very dashing," she says with a smirk to which we both laugh. "Effie told me about you not having a district token," did she get me something? "and I wanted to get you a lump of coal as a joke but Effie wouldn't have it." That feeling comes again. Neglect?

"Oh, that's okay. There's nothing I can take in there that reminds me of home, anyway," I say, noticing that my words leave an uncomfortable silence, "that is, besides a loaf of bread." She laughs and gives me one last, long hug and walks me to the tube as my name is called.

"Now remember everything Haymitch told you. He's a drunk, but he knows what's what when it comes to the games," she says.

"I know, well I guess I'll see you on the other side," I say, morbidly, stepping onto the metal plate.

"Hey, don't talk like that." she says giving me a weak smile, then her face lights up, "Oh! I saw you take that boy up to your room last night you little devil." She probably thought it'd make me laugh or embarrass me into cheering me up. But my face drops.

"What? You saw him and didn't tell me. Who?" she doesn't reply instantly, "Who?" I say louder.

"Sorry, I presumed you knew, it was you who took him up there after all." I'm so captured by the thought of finding out who my stranger is, I don't hear the voice counting down to zero in the background. "It was the boy from district-" The thick glass cuts her off.

As the plate beneath my feet begins to rise Portia starts to mouth words. I'm not a very good lip reader but I think she says "I know" or "they know". I'm doing it again, thinking about my stranger when I should be thinking about what's important.

The metal plate starts to rise again and I'm lifted into blinding light. Let the 74th Hunger Games begin.

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**A/N: I didn't expect to update so quickly but yeah there you go. Don't hesitate to PM me and pleeeease review. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The white light begins to dim slightly, morphing into blues and greens. To them patches of brown, gold and black are added. The colours begin to sharpen and I see I'm in a big field. There's a vast lake, reflecting the mountain in the distance on it's silver surface. A golden meadow, presumably wheat, in another direction. Then there are trees, no knowing how long they go on for. Lastly, standing tall and fierce, the cornucopia. Huge, shiny and gold. So tempting, pulling people in with its riches, only to get them killed. Oh, I forgot about the tributes. We stand on our pedestals, inches above the ground. All twenty-four of us are in a small curve around the Cornucopia. Six faces standing out with eager anticipation.

I turn around and see the forest. Good, that's the direction I'll be running. Unless I turn back and become a Career. Could I even do that? According to Effie I'm a Career. Perhaps I agreed it with them a few days ago, then forgot. Or had my mind wiped. Whatever.

The countdown begins. What do I do? Run forwards or backwards? 30 seconds. I whisper "they know" under my breath. What did Portia mean by that? They know, they know, they know. What do those words _mean?_ 20 Seconds. I look at my fellow tributes. Still mouthing words under my breath. Everybody seems to be looking at the Cornucopia, expect the boy from 2. Or man, he's very muscular and well built. He's looking at me. At _me. _Could it be- 10 seconds- never mind that, Peeta. Get ready. Run to the forest, you can't risk finding out whether or not you're a Career, you'll get slaughtered in the bloodbath. But why did he look at me- 5seconds- when I whispered "they know" under my breath? Zero.

My rational brain finally takes over and as I begin to hear screams, I'm brushing past leaves, twigs and branches. I keep running, not wanting to know whether or not anybody is behind me. I run and run, gathering speed. I'm running fast, weaving through the trees. I chance a look to my left, nobody is there, then to my right, nobody is there either. I finally turn my head 180 degrees and see that I'm completely alone. I'm not being chased.

Now that I'm used to running, it's almost painful for me to slow down to a walk. I jog for another five minutes, just to make sure I'm not being followed, before I collapse on the floor, resting on a fallen tree trunk.

I have nothing. Nothing that'd give me the slightest advantage. I could look for water, but the only place I'm certain that there is any is back at the lake by the Cornucopia. Would the Careers still accept me? I did run from them, though. They could just kill me on the spot. If only there was some trade I could offer, force them to accept me.

There must be some reason why they let me join in the first place. Something that they need, or want. Something only I can give them. Katniss. Of course! She's going to try find me, they're going to use me as bait. That's what I'll do. I hope this works.

After thirty minutes of walking back the cannons start to fire. Eleven. I'm glad to use it as an excuse to take a break, I'm exhausted. I'm pretty sure I'm walking uphill, that explains why I ran so fast in the other direction.

The woods start to thin. I must be getting close, after a few minutes I can hear their cocky laughter. If I walk out now they won't give me time to explain myself. However, if they see me walking from across the field, and see that I'm surrendering, they might hear me out.

It takes me ten minutes to scale the fringe of the forest, they've stopped laughing but I don't to get as close as to see them. Finally I give in, now a good three hundred metres from the Cornucopia. I walk to the edge, behind a tree and look out at the distant cornucopia where the Careers are gathered around something. I can't see what. Cato is standing up, listening to whatever is being said to him. He nods, then they all stand up and walk to the towering pile off supplies. That's when I walk out.

I raise my hands in the air, and walk, trying not to turn around and run. Cato notices me first, as he didn't move form where he was standing minutes earlier. When he sees me, he half laughs and walks in my direction. When we're a hundred metres from each other, that's when the others start to notice, they run to him. They don't run to him, they run past him. I stop still, but see that Cato has ordered them back, behind him. They all walk together. The girl from two and the boy from one giving foul looks. It takes all my will power not to run and hide. We stop walking when we're ten metres away from each other.

"I thought you ditched us," says Cato. A look of smugness on his face.

"I forgot I was a Career, kind of," what am I supposed to say? "I..."

"You didn't want to fight in the bloodbath?" He asks. I assume it's a rhetorical question, so leave it.

"Can I come back?" I ask, hoping my nerve pays off.

"Why shouldn't we just kill you now?" interjects the boy from one.

"Marvel, shut up, let me handle this," says Cato, agitated.

"For God's sake, I need to get this thing bandaged up. Not have a stupid meeting," He pulls up his right trouser leg to reveal a cut on his shin. Below, on his ankle is a tribal tattoo. My mouth falls open in horror. _It was him._ Marvel sees the recognition on my face too, but before he can be pulled back, he's charging at me, the head of his spear leading the way.

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**A/N: Here it is. I hope you all enjoy it, thank you to everybody who has reviewed, you're all amazing. Remember I'm a beta reader as well so just in case you want your stories beta read. Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Cato**

"Is that the last of them?" I ask, surveying the dead bodies surrounding the cornucopia. I see Clove pinning down a puny boy, why hasn't she killed him already?

"Cato, you'd want to hear this," she calls to me, over her shoulder. Sighing, I walk to Clove, seeing her dig her knife into the boy's throat. He's sweating horribly and looks like he's going to pass out from fear. Beads of blood start forming and mixing with his sweat.

"What is it?" I ask. Clove looks at me and indicates the boy. He has a three on his clothes.

"I... It's the mines, they're- if I could just- we" he stutters. "We can use the mines as weapons."

"They deactivate when the games start, everybody knows that." I say, wondering why he's still alive.

"I can rewire them. I'm from district three, I know this stuff. Trust me," he says, voice shaking.

"Why would we need mines? We're not exactly outnumbered." Why did I say that? Of course we're outnumbered. We're the stronger ones is what I should have said.

"Actually, we are out-" I send him my if-you-don't-stop-talking-i'll-do-it-for-you glare. "We still need to protect the supplies, people will still steal from them. Unless we sleep under the pile. You've seen it been done other years." He has a point, they could slowly take all our food without us knowing. I consider what he says for a few seconds, then nod. He gulps and quickly runs to the supply pile for tools. That should keep him from bugging me for a while. By now everybody has followed him, and I stand here.

I think I see something out of the corner of my eye but dismiss it. Then I see it again. Somebody's in the distance, walking towards us with their arms in the air. Peeta. He came back, I doubted he'd remember after the drug I gave him last night. I suppress a laugh but a small one escapes, then begin to walk in his direction.

He must be shitting himself, for all he knows he's not a Career. Then everybody runs past me, even including that boy from three. I don't know what they're playing at, if I wanted him dead he'd be dead by now. I order them behind me. I can tell they're giving him looks because he looks like he's going to run away any second. When we're fifteen meters away from each other we stop.

"I thought you ditched us," I say, wondering what his reaction will be.

"I forgot I was a Career, kind of, I..." Well that was the whole point of the drug. I need to give him a good reason for wanting to come back, though, or the guys will question my authority.

"You didn't want to fight in the bloodbath?" I ask, hoping he'll use it. There's a pause.

"Can I come back?" he asks, how to the hell do I reply to that? They'll think I'm up to something if I just let him back in. I know Marvel knows, or should have guessed by now, but still.

"Why shouldn't we just kill you now?" Marvel interrupts. Thank god, he saved me, but I can't let him take over me like that.

"Marvel, shut up, let me handle this," I say, trying to sound annoyed, but happy he's saving my ass.

"For God's sake, I need to get this thing bandaged up. Not have a stupid meeting," he says, pulling up his right trouser leg, showing the wound on his shin and the tattoo on his ankle all Careers get. Peeta sees his leg and looks horrified. Does he recognize the tattoo? That can't be possible, by the time I left the shower this morning he was in the lift. No, the doors had just closed. Of course! He had seen my tattoo and now thinks it's Marvel. I'll just explain it to Marvel later.

Marvel's running at Peeta, shit why didn't I grab him? Peeta's not even running. The gap is closing. I have to do something. Who's more valuable, Peeta or Marvel? If I want to play gay love-birds with anybody it'll have to be Peeta. That's the only way I can ensure my winning. Why does Marvel have to put me in this situation. My choice is already made. I nudge Clove then nod at Marvel and in a flash a throwing knife is buried into his back. He falls, coughing blood.

"Nothing to see here, I'll finish him," I say gravely. They walk to the supplies while I go to the dying Marvel.

"What the fuck, man?" I ask.

"He was going to" blood splutters out his mouth, "spill."

"No he wasn't, you thick twat," I reply, yanking the knife from his back, he cries in pain. "He didn't even remember he was a Career." I see vague understanding on his face. "You fucked up." I say, slicing his throat. The cannon bangs and look up. Peeta's staring at me, I thought he'd walked off with the rest.

"I was going to spill what?" He asks. Shit.

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**A/N: Iiiiiiiiiiiit's here! Hope y'all enjoyed :) remember to review and favourite (and that i'm a beta reader) thank you**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Peeta**

I look down at Cato hunched over Marvel's body. For this one second I feel more powerful than him. Maybe because my shadow is being cast on him, for once it's towering over him. Maybe because I've left him speechless. Does he know something about my amnesia? In this one second he looks like he knows something. Then the second is over, his face changes and he swiftly stands up.

"Go and help Three over there," he says indicating the boy from three digging holes next to the pedestals. Looking at Cato's stern look I know there's no use in probing any further. He's not going to cave in, especially after losing an ally.

I walk across the stretch of field, past the cornucopia, to the pedestals. I see Three digging a hole next to the pedestal furthest away from the other Careers. What is he doing? Why did Cato let him become a Career?

"Cato said I needed to help you," I say, seeing wires in the hole Three had dug. "What do you need me to do?"

"Um, well, I'm digging up the mines and reactivating them, to protect our supplies," he says, showing me a hunk of metal he'd pulled from beneath the pedestal. Wow, booby trapping the supplies, that's genius. It had never been done before. It definitely won't be expected. I see why Cato didn't kill him.

"Okay, well tell me what to do, and I'll do it," I say, feeling unexpected enthusiasm.

For the next half hour I'm taught how to dig up the mines without blowing myself up. My upper body strength allowing me to dig up the mines in half the time it takes Three to. I successfully manage to dig up twelve before I take a break. It must be noon because the sun is directly above and the heat is overwhelming. I've already taken my jacket off and the pits of my shirt are beginning to accumulate sweat patches.

I look around and see Three at the pile of twelve mines, rewiring each one. Wondering what the Careers are doing, I look for them. They're lounging in a marquee they've constructed. In two hours that's all they've done. It's plain to see what Three and I are to them.

In an attempt to cool off, both physically and mentally, I walk to the supplies pile looking for water. The huge stack of boxes and bags looks higher the closer you are. After searching through five boxes and not finding any water I sit down, collapsing against a box, in the little shade I can find. After a few minutes of silence I realize there's a certain tranquillity to the arena. Watching birds fly over the horizon, watching the calm lake water rippling in the light breeze, watching the tall, snowy mountain in the far distance. It feels so odd that I'm most likely going to die here.

Somebody is shaking me. My eyes open and I see it's the girl from district one. She's smiling at me.

"We're about to eat and thought you'd like to join," she says, looking across the lake at the sun that's just about to dip behind the mountain. "Besides, it's getting dark and we don't want you freezing out here."

I was asleep? They're going to think I'm a slacker.

"Okay, thanks," I say, then she turns and walks back to the marquee.

After I've stood up, stretched and estimated that I'd been asleep for a few hours, I walk to the pedestals. I'm shocked to see a pile of dirt next to each one, then a pile of twenty-four mines. Did Three know I was asleep or did he think I just didn't want to do the work? I hope he didn't think I was deliberately not working. He should have just woken me up. Did he not feel comfortable waking me up?

No, he's in the tent with the others right now. And probably has been since he finished digging the mines up. It would have slipped into the conversation at some point. If he told them I was asleep they would have woken me. I wouldn't have just been woken because they were making food. Three probably saw me walk away and presumed I had finished and was taking a nap.

I can't go back in right now, they all think I'm lazy. I walk back to the pile of supplies and look for water. I still can't find any. _Dammit. _I don't want to go ask the others, so I walk to the lake. I haven't realized how much my throat burns. I haven't had a drink since this morning. I crouch at the water's edge and drink cool water from my cupped hands. It's so crisp and refreshing I forget that I probably need to sterilize the water, but after the fifth handful I doubt it'll do any more harm to continue.

By the time I've walked along the lake edge it's twilight and the air is beginning to nip at my skin. I wonder where my jacket is and remember I left it at the pedestals. I rub my arms, hoping to keep myself warm. Once I reach my jacket I hastily put it on, but I know that I have to get the tent if I want to be warm.

With a sigh I walk to the tent that has a yellow glow coming from it. As I get closer I see silhouettes on the wall material. When I get even closer I can hear joyful chatter and laughter. Inches from the tent door. I gulp and take deep breaths.

"Guys, can I come in?" I ask.

"Where have you been? Get in, it's cold outside." I hear the girl from one say, sounding exasperated.

I unzip the tent door, it's just a bit taller than me. I walk inside and my skin is kissed by the warmth. The tent is basically a long rectangle with metal framework keeping it up. In the far corner there's a space heater keeping the inside warm, but not hot. There's a light hanging from one of the metal poles on the ceiling. Next to the space heater are two large, grey crates, just shorter than me. The group are sitting in a circle around a small portable stove with a simmering saucepan on top. It smells of meat and vegetables, god I'm hungry.

The girl from one is sitting next to Cato, who's sitting next to the girl from two, who's sitting next to Three. One beckons me with a welcoming smile, while the others look confused. I hoped to sit between her and Cato, so I could question him about earlier, but she budges closer to him, making me sit between her and Three.

"Where were you?" She asked.

"I just wanted a walk, you know, clear my head," I say, she nods with understanding, so do Three and the other girl.

"Aren't you guys annoyed that I fell asleep?" I ask, looking around hesitantly, hoping Cato will answer.

"No." Both her and Three say simultaneously.

"You could have woken me up, you know," I say directly to Three.

"Well you'd already done half so you kind of deserved a break." He replies with a shrug.

"Thanks, but still..." I say, "I thought you thought I was a slacking," I say with a laugh, everybody joins in, besides Cato, of course. The girl from one laughing quite enthusiastically, however.

"Glimmer, quick flirting, okay? The broth's done." Cato bursts out. Silence falls, and her smile dies. She was flirting with me? Her name's Glimmer?

The silence is unbearable. Usually I'm the one to break it, but Cato stands up and goes to the crates while Glimmer starts a conversation with the girl from two. As the tension wears off I ask Three where the water is, he points to the crates where Cato is. That's where it's been this whole time.

I walk to the end of the tent, closer to the heater, the air getting warmer. Cato turns to me as I stand next to him, I see dried packs of food filling the container. I try to ignore his glare as I rummage through for water, but I can still feel his stare. I finally give in, looking him in the eye.

"Where's the water?" I ask, slightly annoyed at how confused he's making me.

"In the other crate," he says after a few seconds, looking conflicted. Probably used to being the strong one, he goes to pick up the crate on top, but I know I can do it. Piece of cake.

"It's okay, I got it," I say, placing my hands on each side of the crate, next to his.

"I got to it first," he says, picking it up, pulling my arms in his direction. I resist and pull the crate towards me, pulling us closer. I turn to him, giving him a mean glare, but he's already giving me a smouldering look. _God he's hot, _I think. Oh shit, did I just think that? I notice how much I'm sweating. We glare at each other for another tense second, then he bursts out laughing.

"Why don't we both do it?" He suggests.

"Fine," I say, flushing red, taking one side of the box, while he takes the other.

"One, two-" he begins.

"Is that really necessary? It's not heavy." I say, losing my patience.

"Fine, go," He says, suddenly jerking the box towards the floor, on its side, contents spilled, laughing. Everybody turns to look at me, suddenly it kicks in that millions of people are watching me now. I look weak.

"I didn't mean yank it from my grip," I say, returning the ration packs to the now upright crate, "prick." I mutter.

I avoid his eyes as I get a bottle of water and walk to the other side of the tent, out the door. I think I hear him say sorry but I'm too frustrated to notice. I've taken my jacket off and the cold wind cools and calms me down.

I sit down, looking at the stars, enjoying the peace, reminding myself not to fall asleep. When there's a sudden chill. I think it's just a passing breeze, but then it get colder and colder. I can see my breath like smoke in the air. Then I realise. They're doing this. The Gamemakers. I try resist returning to the tent, but after ten minutes I'm so cold that I have to. I'm also starving.

Again I return, feeling the warm bliss of the heater against my chilled skin. Glimmer, Three and One are still in their original seats, eating their broth. I sit down next to them, in my original seat, pouring myself some. I notice Cato's at the other end of the tent, by himself, eating his broth, leaning against the crates. Perhaps I should talk to him, or perhaps I should leave him. For once, not talk, he probably needs alone time.

I drink the last of the broth from the bowl, as the others put their bowls in a pile in the centre. Not wondering what to do, whether to start a conversation, I ask:

"So what's our plan for tomorrow?"

"I don't know, that's up to Cato, really," Glimmer says.

"Is he okay?" I ask, with a hushed tone.

"I don't know, I was going to ask you," she says, checking he can't hear what she says, "after you stormed out, he hasn't moved."

I look at him, he doesn't look sad, just... in thought. He stands up, yawns and stretches, then walks to us with sleeping bags he got from the box.

"Okay, I think it's time we get some sleep. We haven't done well today in the way of winning." He says, throwing us each a sleeping bag, "early start tomorrow."

With that he walks to the heater, turns it off, and waits for us to get in our sleeping bags, then turns the light off. It's dark outside, then I see faint glows outside as the national anthem begins. I realize they're showing the dead tributes. Once it finishes there's a few dead minutes silence.

I see the glint of sharp objects as well. One clutching her knives, Three clutching the spear, Glimmer clutching the bow and arrow. Each of them asleep.

I turn and see that Cato isn't clutching his sword. In the dim light I can see him breathing. That can't be his sleeping bag rise and fall. That can't be him breathing. His lungs aren't in the centre of his body. Also if he's breathing that fast he's probably hyperventilating. Then I realize it. _Oh my god. _

Cato isn't clutching his sword because he's... well, clutching his sword.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh my goood I'm sorry this took so long. I don't know what happened I just had a block for ages. I hope by making this a longer chapter it sorta makes up? Anyways, thank you very much for reading, I hope you enjoy and, like usual, leaving a review would make my day! Thanks :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Cato**

_I've really pissed him off, _I think as I look into the darkness of the tent. I remember his face before he stormed out of, after I pulled the box from him. Why am I such a dick? I was just teasing. Maybe flirting. I got carried away, I guess.

Through the tent material I can see the fallen tributes being broadcast. I hear the national anthem being played, then silence and darkness. I see three glints at the other side of the tent, I guess they're weapons the others sleep with.

Maybe he's not annoyed with me. Nonetheless, I have to treat this situation very carefully. He did look super pissed. I can imagine his face now. We were glaring at each other and the only thing I could think was how hot he is. I had to distract him by laughing. He's so hot when he's angry. Blood begins to run south.

_Nice one, now you're going to get a hard-on and I doubt it's going to go away quickly,_ I think. It's true. There's no use, I'm going to have to wank. I can feel my hardening cock through my trousers, it's not fully there yet.

I stroke it some more, letting out a long breath. I finally give in and unzip my flies. Letting my dick flop out. I stroke it, feeling the heat of my meat.

I can't help it. Usually I tease myself, prolong the pleasure, now I cut straight to wanking. I imagine me and Peeta earlier, glaring at each other. This time, when our faces are inches from each other, I kiss him. My anger turning into lust, I throw him on the crate we both lifted, climb on top of him, planting kisses into his neck. My hands explore his chest, his hands exploring my waist and ass. In one swift action he brings my shirt off, and in another, his is gone too. Our kisses and getting more passionate. I kiss his neck, then I kiss down his chest to his nipples, then to his stomach. I stroke his boner, feeling it poke through his trousers. My prize is within reach, all I have to do is take it.

My fantasy goes horribly wrong when I forget Glimmer, Clove and Three are metres away from us. They all laugh at me. Then I remember I'm being broadcast. Everybody in Panem is laughing at me.

I snap out of it, staring into the darkness as I continue to masturbate. I look to my left, remembering I saw the reflections of the weapons. Wait. I'm sure those two glints weren't there before. If only I had realized, I would have stopped pumping my cock by then but it was only when I realized they were a pair of eyes that I stopped.

_Shit fuck douche prick mother fucking cum dumpster,_ I think, quite aggressively. Someone caught me wanking. It would be just my luck that it's Peeta that saw me. In my haste to put my dick back in my trousers I don't notice the eyes close.

I quickly stand up and run out the door, my semi swinging as I run. The cold bites at my skin and I don't know how long I can stay out here before I need to go back in to get warm.

I give it fifteen minutes before I presume he's asleep, I mean if he were awake, he'd have followed me out here. Before I return to the tent I look at the forest. Something looks weird. A pillar of cloud that's a different shade to the night sky. It's smoke. Somebody was stupid enough to light a fire.

Out first official kill. Let the Hunger Games begin.

**Peeta**

As soon as I realize what he's doing I close my eyes. I need to go to sleep before my brain uncontrollably starts thinking inappropriate thoughts. Like how big his dick is. _Dammit,_ I think as I hear him stand up and leave the tent.

After a few minutes of silence I begin to drift off to sleep. Then I begin to wonder if he went outside to finish off wanking. I try to sleep but I can't help but imagine his long, hard cock. I wonder what he's thinking of. Me? I doubt it.

Suddenly there's a bright light, making my eyes flash open. I look around and see Cato waking the girls up.

"Come on, somebody was stupid enough to light a fire," he says, waking Three. I remember Haymitch telling us that if you make a fire you're asking to be found.

I sit up, stretching. I guess it can't be put off any more. I may not be killing anybody tonight, but people are going to be dead because of me. I need to accept that.

It's not long before we're walking through the dim forest. The moon doesn't allow us to see much, just enough to not bump into trees. Cato is in the lead, with the compass. The rest of us follow him in almost silence. Every few minutes Glimmer tries to make conversation but it doesn't feel right to disrupt the silence.

After an hour of walking I realize how tired I am. Everybody looks tired, except Cato. He continues walking ahead, occasionally ordering us to pick up the pace.

We continue walking deep into the night. Glimmer occasionally asks to take a break, but Cato orders us to keep walking. After a few hours I can tell even Cato is getting tired because our overall speed gradually begins to slow, and he doesn't blame it on Glimmer.

"Catoooo," Glimmer moans, "can we take a break yet?"

"If we don't see anything soon we will, okay?" Cato replies, the moon shining on his tired face. He looks at me for a second before we both turn away and continue walking.

The moonlight looks like it's brighter than it was when we first started walking, I can see better than I initially could. Maybe my eyes are adjusting to the dark. Cato stops. He's looking up, we all follow his gaze.

"Cato, what are you-" Glimmer begins to say, then stops. I assume she sees what he's seeing.

We're in a patch of forest where the trees are spaced further apart, letting us see more or the sky. Looking at the stars, scanning what I see, I wonder what's so important. Then I see it. Only because of the glowing moon I see a column of smoke, it's not far away. Maybe a half hour's walk, in the direction we've been walking.

"All right guys, when we get in visual range of the fire, we make sure we don't make any noise." he says in a hushed voice, for some reason. "Everybody got their weapons?"

"Yes," we all say, I clutch my spear.

It's a twenty minute walk until we see an orange glow not far off. Cato's so fast it's more of a jog, not a walk. We tread slowly and quietly. A twig snaps under Glimmer's feet and a sharp glare is shot to her from Cato. With a swift motion of his hand he orders us to hide behind the trees as we advance.

It's not long before we see the small clearing that had been made. A girl is hunched over the fire, inches away from it, with her back to us. I'm not sure if her hair's auburn or if the orange of the fire gives that impression. I notice the cruel irony of the fire she made being imperative to her survival, but ultimately being the thing that kills her.

We're a few feet from this girl as I watch Cato holding his sword, the fire glistening off the blade. He's moving now and I see he's walking out into the small area. The others follow him. She turns and sees the Careers gathered around her, but she's far too late. Her scream can probably be heard for miles.

I realize I'm not with the others. I'm still hiding behind a tree. The people of Panem will think I'm not really a Career. I guess I have to prove them wrong. I stand up and make my way to the group.

I look into the pleading eyes of the girl who's slowly dying. She sees me as a monster. If I want to survive that's what I have to become.

* * *

_Why the hell did I volunteer to go back?_ I think as I walk back to the dying girl Cato just stabbed. We left her in a pool of her own blood but still didn't hear the cannon. Things began to get heated, so of course I said I'd go back and finish the job, just to avoid an argument.

I'm walking to the fire, managing to keep a straight face, now in eye range of it. How should I make sure she's dead? I'll just stab her where Cato stabbed her. I need something to distract my mind before I start to over think. I feel the thousands of eyes of Panem on me. All of them are boring into me. I feel naked. Not the good kind.

When I get there I see the fire is close to going out. There's a small flame in a sea smouldering ashes. She lies next to the fire. Her bloody hand laying limp. If I'm to prove myself, I have to kill her. Don't I?

Clutching the spear in my hand I stride over to her. The tip of the blade is hovering over her rising and falling chest. I should really put her out of her pain. All I need to do is thrust my arm down. Keeping my breath steady and my face blank I mentally count down. 3. 2. 1. Boom!

What? How could she be dead? I haven't stabbed her yet. I look down. She's not breathing any more. I guess she died just before I was going to kill her. As happy as I am not killing somebody, I know I'm going to have to at some point.

I turn around and walk back, the group must have been waiting a while by now. After five minutes I feel like I should have bumped into them by now. Am I lost? I can't find my way back to the Cornucopia on my own. I jump when I hear the sound of a hovercraft overhead. When I hear it fly off I begin to panic.

I pick up the pace, fighting the temptation to call out. I start a slow jog. Then a faster jog. The only noise I hear being my footfalls. What if I get ambushed? I start sprinting. I can't keep quiet anymore.

"Guys!" I shout, "where are you?"

I slow down to a jog waiting for a reply. I stop dead when I see a tall figure not far in front of me. The silhouette's tall. Is it Cato? Or is it that beast from eleven? I can't see who it is. He's by himself. There's no way I'd be able to fight him on my own. I was left out here to die. I begin to back away, maybe I can make a run for it.

"Where are you going?" I hear a voice laugh. Not any voice, it's Cato's. I let out a heavy sigh.

"I thought you were that guy from eleven!" I blurt out, "I was getting ready to run."

"Ha! Well, good luck with that," he says, walking forward allowing me to see that it's actually him. I guess I'm not dying tonight.

My breathing is returning to normal but my heart's still beating rapidly. I sit down, leaning against a tree trunk.

"You okay?" he asks, helping me back up.

"I'm fine, I just need sleep," I reply. I wait for him to show me the direction to walk.

We start walking but after a few minutes I realize he hasn't checked the compass. Did he leave it with the group?

"Why haven't you checked we're not going the wrong direction?" I ask.

"It's fine, I know we're going to right way," he replies.

"But how?" I ask, stopping. He points to the moon. I frown at him.

"I noticed that the way back to camp was in the direction of the moon," he begins, "so I offered to wait for you while they went ahead. I feel like I need to clear the air between us, anyway."

I remember the tense moment we had earlier over the crate. Then I remember catching him wanking. Which one is he talking about? Is he talking about both? I presume he's talking about the crate incident.

"Oh that? It's fine, it was me, I overreacted," I say, hoping to get closure.

"No, it's my fault, I don't..." he says, I notice we've begun walking again, "I'm a crap flirter."

"You were flirting with me?" I ask, he focuses on the ground, suddenly walking faster. I feel a small smirk growing in the corners of my mouth.

"I... I'm not good at it, I ended up pissing you off." he says, glumly.

What do I say to that? Usually I'm perfect at defusing awkward situations. I usually know exactly what to say. But now I'm drawing blanks.

"Hey, it's fine," I begin, where am I going with this? "just be more direct next time."_ Oh my god am I flirting with him?_

"Next time?" he asks, now the one with a smirk on his face. What am I doing? I don't know what's worse, flirting with Cato, a sadist, live on national television or the fact I enjoy flirting with him. It's not often I'm left speechless.

"Anyway," he says, turning to me, hand extended, "I hope we can put this behind us."

The moon glows off of his face, eyes gleaming. Why does he have to be so hot? I shake his hand, with a laugh. Then he just looks at me. A knowing look. I'm lost in his eyes. How long have we been staring at each other? I see the moon in his irises. We should probably continue walking. But I know that's not going to happen so simply. I can't move. I'm trapped in his gaze. Oh god, he's going to do it.

He leans forward, his one hand curling around my waist, pulling me closer to him. Closing his eyes, our lips meet for a split second before I have to break us apart, free from his hold. I remember I'm on television. I remember he enjoys killing. But why was I reluctant to breaking the kiss? Why do I want him?

I catch a glance at him before gluing my eyes to the forest floor. In that look I feel like I've taken candy from a baby. Confusion. Rejection. False hope. I want the ground to open swallow me whole. I've never felt so horrible.

"It's not that I don't like you," I begin after a long uncomfortable silence, "I just don't know you and I don't want a quick fling. Not to mention we're in the _arena. _It's not like there'll be a happy ending."

"I was hoping it'd be something as simple as you not liking me," he says, I give him a weak smile. "I've just never really... connected with anybody. Sure I've got a few friends in my district but none of them I could share _this _kind of stuff with." He's looking for somebody to connect with? Something serious, not just a one night stand?

"Do your parents know... about you?" I ask, hoping it will steer the conversation differently.

"My parents couldn't give less of a shit," he says. For the next hour he explains how back in his district his parents only cared about how well he was doing at Career training. They'd beat him if he wasn't meeting their standards. He talks about his life as I listen, because that's what he needs. Somebody to listen.

"What about you?" he asks, looking vulnerable.

"Um, well..." I begin, how can I explain my life to him? To Panem? He just told me everything, I shouldn't be such a coward. "Well, my mother is a complete bitch. She looks for any excuse to beat me," I let out an empty laugh.

I tell him about my district. About the bakery. About my mother, father and brothers. We even talk about school. We spend the rest of the walk talking about each other. We've both forgotten about our almost kiss because at the moment we both need a friend. Not a boyfriend. Not a one night stand. A friend.

It doesn't feel like it took very long to walk back once we arrive at the tent. Everybody is fast asleep.

"I'm going to have some water, then sleep, I think," I say as I go to the crate to get some water. Cato notices me lifting the top crate with ease.

"I guess you have got it," he says, and we both laugh. It doesn't feel like very long ago we'd argued about whether I could carry it or not.

**Cato**

I find myself looking at the tent wall again in almost darkness, thinking about Peeta again. This time, my thoughts are pure. As pure as they could be with the given situation. There is no future for us, he knows that. But he doesn't see there could be a_ now._ There could be something short, passionate and beautiful we could both share.

Again my thoughts wander over to the dark place in my mind. Where my hunger for Peeta lives. I'm already stroking my hardening cock. My handful of meat still growing. The cameras can probably see me, but without a doubt pretty soon they'll be seeing worse things than this.

I imagine Peeta in his kitchen, his hands covered in flour. The oven's letting out a sticky heat. He wipes perspiration from his brow, leaving a spot of flour on his forehead. His clothes are messy with the stuff. I walk over to him. My lips ease into his, fitting perfectly. I hold his waist, getting flour on my hands. My hands travel further down to his ass. _God_ what I'd give to have a piece of that. My stone erection pokes his inner thigh, he pulls me in closer, poking him harder.

I slowly move my hands to his front, but he gets there first. His hand has already unzipped my flies and my dick has flopped out. He stops kissing me. His hand slowly, steadily working on my meat. He has pure lust in his eyes. A tense groan escapes me. With another kiss he increases tempo. Pumping hard. Hard and fast. His hand feels so right on my cock. I'm feel it building. Higher and higher.

I open my eyes as I dump my load on my chest, the fantasy over. I'm staring into the darkness, hoping to find a glimpse of Peeta's face I can associate with this pleasure I'm feeling. My panting slows down to steady breaths.

I'm just staring into the darkness. Nothing will happen between us. Not yet. He sees me as a friend. Oh well, I'd best get some sleep.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter was originally in four parts, but I've put them all together to avoid future confusion.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Peeta**

Everybody sleeps in late the next day as a reward for finding that girl last night. When I finally wake up I'm covered in sweat. During the night I'd gotten out of my sleeping bag it was that hot. I hadn't prepared for this, I was expecting blistering cold, not wet heat.

As I stand up I see everybody else is outside. I walk out to join them, and see Cato frying some breakfast over various fires. The others are sitting in a circle around him. The sun hits me again and I start sweating. Glimmer's wearing just a bra and shorts, catching the sun. The rippling lake water sparkles, inviting me in. I'll take a dip later.

I collapse between Glimmer and Three, a gap between them. As I lay I feel myself relaxing into the ground.

"Morning, Peeta," Glimmer says in a cheery voice.

"Morning," I reply, "it's boiling today."

She agrees with a simple "mm-hmm" as I lay back, staring at the cloudless sky, the smell of exotic foods filling my nose. People often think that because I live in a bakery, I'm well fed on quality food. We aren't financially stable, so we can't afford to eat our food, we have to sell all of it to survive. We'd usually eat the foods that didn't sell, stale or overcooked bread. On a good day my father would buy one of Katniss' squirrel's. But that, aside from holidays, was the best it'd ever get.

"Grub's up!" Cato says, scooping this aromatic new food, with a spatula, onto five plastic plates. My stomach grumbles. When I get my plate I begin to examine what's on it. There are three strips of meat that don't look familiar, some beans in a read sauce, fried mushrooms, something white with a yellow centre that looks like an egg and a slice of bread that's been fried.

I look at my plate curiously, then stab a strip of meat with my fork and taste it. It's much more flavorsome than squirrel. It's probably from a rare animal. The sauce the beans are in is quite sweet and gives the beans more flavour. I tried mushrooms before when my father bought some from Katniss, who scavenged them in the woods. The egg, if it is an egg, tastes very peculiar, I assumed it'd taste like the cakes we make because we put eggs in the mix. It doesn't, it tastes weird. I can't put my finger on whether I like it or not. I've tried fried bread before, so I'm very shocked by the taste.

Glimmer sees me eyeing my curious plate.

"Are you okay? You look lost," she says with a joking laugh.

"Yeah, I'm just taking it in. I've never seen this stuff before, let alone tasted it." I confess.

"What did you expect, Glimmer? He's not from the district of luxury." Cato says, a hint of malignancy in his tone. She doesn't speak and goes back to resting her head. I go to talk to her, to tell her I'm not offended but Cato stops me.

"It's an ancient delicacy from way before Panem existed," he explains, "they think it's called an 'English Breakfast'. But they don't know what an 'English' is."

"Hmm, well, maybe this meat is from an 'English'?" I say, a little puzzled.

"No, it's bacon, it comes from a pig. It's big in the Capitol."

"Wow," is all I can say. Who would have known Cato is so educated?

We all finish our 'English Breakfast' and lounge in the sun. I wake up not long after, having decided to take a nap, and notice the sun's directly overhead, I'm probably tanned now. I'm still filled from my big breakfast so decide to simply have a banana for lunch.

"Guys, I know we earned the break we're having," Cato begins as we begin our lunch, "but we still need to do something. So after lunch we'll plan the rest of the day."

We all nod and agree, personally it sounds like a good idea. I'd still like to have a dip in the lake before it starts getting cold, even though it doesn't feel like that's possible. You never know with the Gamemakers. When we finish we all stand up, idly awaiting instructions.

"Okay, I was thinking because we don't know what Three can do, besides that," Cato says pointing to our supply pile with strategically placed mines, which I'm yet to know how to safely avoid, "somebody could go to the woods with him and some weapons to see what he can do, using trees as targets." He says.

"We also need our washing up done, I don't mind doing that," he says, "Glimmer, perhaps you'd like to help him?" He asks, but we know it's a rhetorical question.

"Sure," she says, not sound pleased. "I'm not very good with aiming, though, why doesn't Clove come with me?" she asks. Cato looks at Clove as if asking her what she thinks. She simply shrugs.

"That's settled, then," he says, as the three of them walk over to the supplies. He then looks at me, "So, what are you going to do?" he asks.

"I was thinking I'd have a wash in the lake," I say hoping he doesn't think I'm going to the lake just because he is, "the weather seems right for it."

"Yeah, I'll probably join you after," he says.

"Okay," I say, starting my walk to the lake avoiding the implications of Cato's words.

The grass gets cut off and there's a small drop to a bank of sand. The sand is only two steps long until the water's edge. I stand there for a few seconds taking in the view, it's extraordinary.

I walk back to where the grass cuts off and take my shoes and socks off. I put them on the grass, then proceed to take my shirt off, placing it on the grass, knowing that the female audience of the Capitol probably have been anticipating this moment.

I forget that I need a towel so I swiftly jog to Cato, who's collecting the plates from the ground.

"Cato, where are the towels? There are towels, right?" I ask, approaching him from behind.

"Yeah, they're with our supplies," he says standing up then turning around, realizing I'm topless, "wow, nice frame."

I don't know what to do, I like the fact he finds me attractive but... But what? Is there a but? There's no use in denying I'm attracted to him. I can't say that because we're being watched is the 'but'. The audience is saying what Cato's saying and I had no problem with a it a moment ago. It's because we're both going to die. He might live, he's the leader of the Careers. But me, I'm going to die soon. Knowing that, would giving him a try be_ that_ bad?

"Thanks," I say with an awkward smile, then turn and walk to the supplies. I begin to jog because it's half the way over the field. I jog faster then run. Run away from my thoughts about him. I get near the supplies, my feet feeling freshly turned mud under them. I immediately stop as soon as I realize.

How could I be so stupid? I'm amazed I'm not dead already. I can't risk moving. I'm not close to the supplies so I guess there aren't any mines in this area. There's no indication in the ground as to where the mines are. They did a good job.

I knew I was going to die soon but this takes the biscuit. I know Cato won't hear me if I shout. He'd hear me if I exploded. The others aren't going to help either, they went in the complete opposite direction. I'm fucked.

I think this all in a second as I turn around. Cato's just a figure in the distance. I jerk my arms up and wave frantically, not caring if he sees me. My stomach sinks when he immediately starts sprinting towards me, quicker than I'd expect him to.

I hear him shout "don't move!" as he gets closer, though I wouldn't dare to, anyway. My heart beats faster the closer he gets. He slows down and begins to jump from one point to another, a look of hysteria mixed with concentration on his face. He stops, a couple metres opposite me.

"Peeta, there's one between us, I'm not sure where, you must have jumped over it mid-run, do you remember where your foot fell?" He says. I try remember but my mind was focused on getting a towel, then focused on not dying. I look at the distance between us. It seems the mine is either close to me, or close to Cato. I can either take a step then a jump, or a jump then a step.

"Is there anything? Anything at all?" he asks, distraught.

I try retrace my steps, quite literally. I was running, then realized I was in the minefield and stopped. That's all. I look at Cato helplessly. I could try jumping and landing in the gap between the two potential mines. But if I did that I'd have so much momentum going that I'd end up taking a step on the one further away from me. If that's where it is. That's it!

I think back to when I was running. I stopped when I realized I was in the minefield, but I was running so fast I had to take another step. Meaning it can't be directly in front of me.

I tentatively move my right forward, hovering over where my death could be. My heart rate increases. I sweat more under the heat.

"Peeta, are you sure-"

"Yes," I interrupt.

My toes gently touch the ground, barely putting any pressure on it at all. Here goes nothing. With my heart beating out of my chest, bracing myself for an explosion, squeezing my eyes shut, I press my foot down.

I'm standing there, waiting for something to happen. I wait a few more seconds. Still nothing. Cato's face brightens like the sun, and so does mine. He braces himself and holds out his arms. I leap into them, trying not to jump too hard, and he takes me in a bone-crushingly, passionate hug.

He nuzzles his face into my shoulder, as I rest my chin on his, feeling his arms keep us together. I slowly move my head away so I can look at him. I stare into his eyes, this time the sun is in them. I raise my hand, gently pull his chin forward, close my eyes and let his soft lips meet mine.

Time stops. I feel his warm breath on my cheek, his chest rise and fall against mine, his hand on my bare back. We stop and he gets the towels then guides me back to safety. I don't know what he took from the kiss. I don't know what I took from the kiss. I knew I was going to die soon and began warming to the idea of Cato. Then I nearly did died and Cato saved me. Maybe I should take that as a message.

"That was..." he begins, trailing off into his own thoughts.

"... a reward, yes." I say with a small grin, "You saved me life."

"You saved mine," he snaps back, "Anyway, I've gotta get the washing up done."

He walks to the tent while I walk to the lake. When I get to my shoes and discarded shirt I start taking the rest of my clothes off. I keep my underwear on, I don't want them to see me naked. I imagine the sighs of a thousand middle-aged women.

I step down off the grass and onto sand. Feeling it between my toes. I walk forward and the crisp water cools my feet. I sigh in relief, the cooling water should stop me from sweating so much. I continue walking til my ankles are under. I know that despite how hot I am, the water will feel cold when I fully immerse myself. I continue walking, preparing to dive forward.

"What are you doing Peeta?" I hear Cato shout behind me. I turn and see him holding a plastic box the size of his chest, probably holding plates.

"Taking a dip?" I try. He laughs as he sets the box down next to where the grass drops. He jumps down.

"This is how you do it," he says, pulling his shirt off, then his shoes, socks, trousers then finally with a piquant look, takes his boxers off and runs into the water. Once submerged for a second he jumps up, shaking the water off of him, looking exhilarated.

I continue walking into the water. Then he jumps in my way, playfully blocking me.

"Come on," he says, "or I'll rip them off myself," he adds with a cheeky smile.

With a groan I walk back, strip, then run into the water to waist level trying to avoid that Cato wants to get me naked. I feel the intense cold and hug myself, rubbing my arms. I feel my balls and dick shrink to retain heat, undoubtedly there are cameras underwater catching every glimpse.

"It gets better once you go deeper and start moving, you need to swim and create some friction," he says, energetically. I nervously look at him.

"I... I can't swim," I say, looking down avoiding his eyes. I forget he's naked and see his cock in the clear water. I want to linger but I'll get a boner and I don't want to know what will happen if I get one. Not to mention he'll see me staring at him.

"Doesn't mean you can't try," he says, going further out, "come on, I'll teach you."

I follow him, shivering the further I go. I stand facing him.

"First thing, you've gotta go underwater," he says. I know I need to, I remember when I had a cold bath because that week we couldn't afford to heat it, and once I was under it felt better. I count down in my head and then drop. It feels like I'm covered in ice. I shoot up, shivering horribly for a few minutes. I go back under, keeping my head out. After a while I stop shaking so vigorously.

For the next half hour Cato teaches me the basics of swimming. I can keep myself afloat for a few seconds by the end, but only by flailing. Cato explains that in the Career training centre there's a swimming pool for exercise, he said that the reason his hair is blonde is because chlorine in the water turns his hair a lighter colour.

The cold isn't so bad any more, I could even say it feels warm. I start flailing again, managing to stay up for ten more seconds.

"Well done, just remember to focus on keeping your bottom half up, it helps with the buoyancy," he says. I try to avoid that his words can be crudely misinterpreted as 'show me your naked ass'. I've almost forgotten that I'm naked with a guy who I've kissed... twice... on television.

I try 'swimming' in his direction. He sees me struggle and holds out his hands, I take them and focus on kicking my legs.

"Remember, keep your legs up," he says as they begin to sink. I try but it's harder than he expects it to be. At least for me it is.

"I can't," I manage to say over harsh breathing.

"It's okay," he says, letting go. "can I try a different way?"

"Uh, I guess," I reply, not sure what he could mean by 'different way'. I begin to swim again, then he puts his hand under me, touching my stomach. I quickly jump away from him, not expecting to be touched so close to my area. Oh god. I'm going to get an erection.

"If you wanted to touch me up then-" I begin.

"Don't be so stupid, I was helping you stay floated," he says, sounding agitated. His words take me aback. I thought he was making a move on me.

"Oh, see" I say, he looks like he's calming down, "well, we'll try that again."

I begin swimming, and he places his hand under my stomach, stopping me from sinking. It's weird, his touch feels so good. So intimate. This is the reason I didn't want him touching me. However, him keeping me up is really helping my swimming. I can focus on the coordination between my arms and my legs.

"So what _do_ I have to do?" he asks out of the blue.

"Huh?" I gargle with a mouthful of water.

"When you freaked you didn't say 'don't touch me', you said 'if I wanted to touch you' and I didn't hear the rest. So, what do I have to do?" he explains with a grin.

"I thought you were making a move, I wasn't going to give you tips," I say with a laugh.

I've managed to keep myself from getting an erection. Then as I start swimming faster, and he moves away, seeing what I can do by myself, my penis brushes against the back of his hand. I jump away quicker than when he touched me a few minutes ago.

"This is too weird," I say, backing away from him, into shallow water.

"Oh, come on," he says, but knows I'm right. I run out as quick as I can to my towel before my semi becomes any bigger. I wrap the towel around me, secure it, then pick up my clothes.

"I'm sorry, Cato," I say, wondering why he's looking disgruntled.

"No, it's fine," he says as I turn around and jog back to the tent.

Once inside I dump my clothes in the corner. I run to the heater and turn it on. As I go to the other corner my towel falls of, my fully erect cock swinging out. There's no use in paranoia now. I squat in the corner, the heater's warmth hitting me.

I stroke my cock. Then I begin to pick up the speed. I imagine Cato, I wonder what would have happened if things went differently, what would happen if I continued swimming. I ignore that and think of just Cato, I thought the audience would find me attractive, they're probably fainting over Cato. I wish I'd taken a better look at his cock. Still as I'm wanking I imagine sucking it. I begin to feel closer to the edge, I'm nearly there. I reach back and grab my towel then drop it in front of me. I spill my seed on the towel in four loads. Despite my best efforts I moan each time.

I stand in front of the heater, naked, drying myself. It feels nicer than a towel, besides I can't use mine any more. In a few minutes I'm dry and dressed, prepared to help Cato do the washing up.

I walk to him and see he's got clothes on but he's topless and he's crouching over something, his back to me. I see it's his shirt he's hunched over and he's pouring water on it. As I get closer he hears me and quickly scrunches his shirt up, looking like somebody who'd been caught masturbating. I'm pretty sure I'd seen a white stain on his shirt. It stood out against the dark fabric. _Shit. _I decide to play dumb.

"Hey," I begin, "are you done with the washing? I was thinking I'd lend a hand. I'm sorry for storming off." I make sure to keep my eyes on him and not his shirt.

"I've only got one last thing to do, so don't worry about it," he says, I sense he's trying to get rid of me.

"I can do it," I say, again avoiding looking at the shirt.

"It's fine, honestly," he pushes.

"Fine," I say, sitting down, leaning my legs over the edge of the grass. I watch him as he turns back around, hectically scrubbing his shirt, while I absently pick the grass.

* * *

That night we all sat around a fire while I cooked. Clove hunted a rabbit earlier in the woods, so I decided to spit roast it then make a broth with some basic rations we have in our food supplies. I could have cook something fancier, but I don't want to use the good food, yet.

Luckily, in our supplies we have various pots and pans, so I can make lots of broth without fear of overfilling the pot. I put the rabbit in to stew then start chopping some wild garlic I picked. I add the garlic and let it to simmer, allowing me to rejoin the conversation.

"So you basically explode bombs all day?" Glimmer asks Three.

"There's more to it than that, but you could say that's what I do," he replies.

"That must be really cool, what's the biggest explosion you've seen?" she asks, eagerly. They've gotten friendlier since this morning. I'm not sure whether she's interested or flirting. She seems like the flirtatious type. I turn to Cato and Clove and listen to them.

"I'd say we'll have another day off tomorrow, then we'll have to start hunting," Clove says.

"Yeah, we can use tomorrow as a training day. I still haven't seen what Peeta can do," he says, noticing me listening in.

"I can throw, but can't aim. I'm better at wrestling." I say.

"Well, we'll see tomorrow. Is the food ready yet?" he asks. I open up then pot, and taste the rabbit. It looks and tastes done.

"Yeah, does somebody want to butter some bread while I plate up?" I suggest, picking up the bread basket.

"I got it," Cato says, taking it from me.

I decide to put the broth in bowls instead. By the time I have everybody served, Cato has five bread rolls buttered. We all eat in silence, the occasional slurping sound is heard.

"Well that was delicious," Cato says after draining the juices from his empty bowl. Everybody else quickly nods and hum in agreement, still eating. He carelessly throws his bowl into the empty washing up box.

Not long after we all finish our food we go into the tent, the nippy air beginning to become too much. I burrow deep into my sleeping bag, and position myself as close as I can to the heater. I breathe a sigh of relief as I warm up, happy there isn't any tension between Cato and me any more.

* * *

"Come on, Peeta, it's like you're not even trying," Cato says, locking me in a choke hold. I reach up behind me, grab his shirt, bend down and pull forward, flipping him over me onto his back. Luckily we're wrestling on the sand, if I had done that on the grass it'd have winded him.

"That's what I'm talking about!" He says jumping back up, positioning himself for another round.

"I think it's time we had lunch, besides we've been at it for hours," I say, jumping up onto the grass.

I notice Cato didn't follow me as I walk out the tent with an apple and bread roll. He's just sitting on the sand, look out at the lake. I hear somebody behind me. It's Glimmer.

"Hey Peeta, can you come and see if this is poisonous? We figured you might know best," she asks.

"Yeah, sure," I say following her into the trees. She jogs ahead, lost from my view behind a tree. As I walk past she grabs me and pushes me against a tree. I think she's attacking me but she instead kisses me. I push her away, maybe too aggressively.

"Oh come on Peeta, you know you want me," she says placing a hand on my chest, trying to kiss me again.

"What gave you that idea? I'm sorry for you the wrong impression." I say, sidestepping away from her.

"I don't know, I just feel it," she says. I let the words sink in.

"I should have known," I say, realizing her true intentions, "you just want to use me to win."

I walk away, ignoring any attempt at an apology she makes. I heatedly rush back to Cato, hoping to vent my anger in physical violence.

With a firm grasp on his shoulders I push him back, while he does the same. We're muscularly equal, but his height gives him a slight advantage. I push, but feel myself slipping. I hook my leg around his and pull, he falls, not expecting that move. Not giving in so soon, he keeps a hold on my shoulders and drags me down with him.

I land on top of him, prepared to shout obscenities at him but when I hear him laugh I can't help but laugh too. I roll off him and sit, crossing my legs. He props his head up with his arm.

"I'm enjoying this new Peeta," he says, a hint of cheekiness in his tone.

"You like me, don't you?" I ask, taking him by surprise.

"Depends on your definition of 'like'," he replies, I can tell he knows what I'm asking.

I consider what he says. There's only one way I can be sure he does. I lean down to kiss him, but stop when our lips are an instant from touching. If he didn't want the kiss his eyes would still be open and he'd question why I stopped as soon as I stop. If he did want the kiss then his eyes would already be closed, meaning there'd be a pause before he notices.

My lips linger above his. Nothing but silence. My heart flutters.

"Is there a problem-" Cato begins, only just opening his eyes, before I thrust myself on him. I crush my lips against his, he lays down on his back. I climb over him, my body hovering over his as we continue kissing. He places his hand on my back and strokes down it while my hand feels his chest. I begin to feel my cock harden.

His hands explore my ass, cupping each cheek. I run my hand down his chest, feeling his toned abs, putting me more in the mood. I should stop, but it's so good. His hand begins to stroke my hips, then they slowly come around to my front.

I let him feel my cock for a second before I brush his hand away. I sit up, with a sigh, without noticing I'm sitting on his dick. He lets out a small unexpected moan and I jump off him.

"Maybe not in broad daylight," I say, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Oh come on Peeta, you know you want me," he says, sitting up, placing a hand on my hip. His words remind me of somebody who tried seducing me not so long ago.

"Besides, the entire country will be watching," I say, hoping it will prove a good point.

"Who cares about them?" he says, kissing my neck. I can't believe it, the feeling of betrayal creeps across my skin like an oozing black liquid.

"You..." I choke out, "you want them to watch, don't you?"

His face is blank.

"You want to use me," I accuse him. For a brief second he looks guilty, but it's gone as quick as it was there.

"I'm not, I swear," he pleads.

"You and Glimmer would get along fine," I say as I jump up and storm off to the tent.

I grab my sleeping bag, a spear, a bag with food, clothes and a knife then walk back out. I don't intend on leaving the group, I just want to be ready should I need to. I go to the empty cornucopia, knowing I'll be left alone there.

The rest of the day I spend practicing with the spear. I climb on top of the cornucopia and aim at the rising tip of the metal. This distracts me until night time, then I go inside, eat and wait for the cold to creep in.

I manage to get a few hours of sleep, but the temperature is proving a good fighter against my sleeping bag. I end up jogging in circles outside, hoping it will heat me up more, until the sun rises. Which doesn't take long.

Despite my hopes, the sun doesn't warm me. I contemplate making a fire when I look at the forest. Something must be happening where we found that girl the other night because I see wall of smoke, blackening the blue sky. As I stand, mouth hanging open, everything I've been preparing for becomes real.

* * *

**A/N:** Here it is. I hope you like that it's almost five times as long as my other chapters. Sorry if it's not the same quality as others, proof reading this much is tedious which is why I prefer doing small chapters. Nonetheless, I'm glad I'm making more content and I hope you all enjoy it. I've added quite a few headcanons so if you're confused then just ignore them, I've tried not to make them important to the story. If any of you are confused as to what the lake/grass edge looks like to me, I made a sketch and will upload it to deviantart then post the link on here upon request. Please review. Thanks!

(Oh and sorry if you don't like the ending)

**Abugsaunt: **

I don't know why but I assume Cato's the kind of guy with fantasies. Well, I'm glad you liked it and hope you like this one.

**sOMEBODYsTRANGE: **

Sorry the update isn't so soon, but there's more this time. Glad you liked, you're welcome person!

**MangoMagic: **

I'm so glad you go into detail, it's a rare thing to see in reviews, at least for me. Yeah, I'm glad you see that to Cato Peeta isn't an object, despite the thoughts he has of him. I know there future looks pretty bleak, but you might be able to predict what is around the corner. I'm also glad you see that I'm taking the characters, adding personal twists and trying to keep a balance. I'll try keep my update as frequent as they have been.

**SakuraDrops141: **

Like I said to sOMEBODYsTRANGE I imagine Cato as the person with fantasies. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Alykat14: **

What you've said has got me thinking. I had an ending in mind, but I keep getting more ideas. I might choose one of you and let them choose which one, if they say, get me more readers. I don't know. It's still a while yet, so if any of you have suggestions as to how you'd like it to end, or how I should choose, feel free to tell.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Cato**

_I've got to get some alone time with Peeta, I decide to put my plan into action._

_"Okay, I was thinking because we don't know what Three can do, besides that," I say, indicating the mines Three had placed around our supply pile, "somebody could go to the woods with him and some weapons to see what he can do, using trees as targets."_

_I know Clove is the obvious choice to help him practice, but that means Glimmer could become a potential threat to the privacy I want. I know that if I ask Glimmer to go with him she'll ask for Clove to join._

_"We also need our washing up done, I don't mind doing that. Glimmer, perhaps you'd like to help him?" I suggest, knowing she has to say yes._

_"Sure. I'm not very good with aiming, though, why doesn't Clove come with me?" She asks back. I give myself a mental high-five for executing me plan perfectly._

**Peeta**

Cato doesn't let anybody eat before we leave, he gives us one minute to ready ourselves. It's like he doesn't know I'm mad at him.

We're weaving through the trees in a line. Cato first, Clove, Glimmer, Three, then me. Everybody seems so focused that I dare not speak or even stop to catch my breath. We're moving as one and something about that scares me.

I manage to hold out, it's Glimmer who demands we take a break from the running. As I rest against a tree I see the smoke looks like it's coming from a fire too big to be accidental. I wonder why the Gamemakers would be killing somebody instead of letting us do it. Then I realize that they're using the fire as a means of drawing us to our victim. It's probably Katniss. The girl on fire. How ironic.

"Come on, we've got to hurry," Cato says as he takes off his jacket and ties it around his waist.

"Cato, don't you see the Gamemakers are drawing whoever it is to us?" I say, sounding incredibly pompous.

"What d'you mean?" he asks shooting a glare at me. I'm not sure if he's acting like this because he's on the hunt, or if he's mad at me for being mad at him.

"The fire's too big to just be an accident, it'll be the Gamemakers bringing somebody to us," I explain, everybody hanging on my words. Cato being the exception, "I'll bet it's Katniss, too."

"If it's Katniss that means we have to hurry our asses up, there's only so much the Gamemakers can interfere," he says, his voice growing ever more impatient, "Glimmer, you can finish that as we go."

Glimmer stands up, taking the last few bites of her bread roll and waits for Cato to set off again. I was hoping Cato would listen to me and let us take it easy but somehow we're doing the opposite. Now Cato's running faster and he's getting frustrated that we can't keep up.

**Cato**

_I stand here relieved I don't need an excuse to make Peeta join me by the lake. I collect the plates while Peeta runs to the supply pile. I forgot to tell him I'll need to go with him because he doesn't know the safe route through the mines yet. I look up and wait for him to turn back around, hopefully a bit embarrassed._

_He's not turning around. What is he doing? Shit. He hasn't forgotten, has he? I see him wave his arms and I know. I know he's in trouble._

_I'm running as fast as I possibly can. I manage to shout and tell him not to move, over the white hot panic. It's only when words escape my mouth that I notice it was me who said them. They must have made sense because Peeta is stepping forward. I ask if he's sure of what he's doing but he interrupts me. His places his foot on the ground._

_I brace myself for an explosion and when I hear nothing I don't think I'd be able to smile any wider. I hold my arms out for him, longing to hold him. He jumps into them and once I know he's safe, everything feels right._

**Peeta**

It's not long before we come to the fire. We run parallel to a stream until we find somebody. And just like I guessed, that somebody is Katniss.

She is in the water and Cato doesn't hesitate running in after her. We follow him into the water as Katniss frantically jumps back out. She has a head start but Cato makes a meal of battling the strong current of the stream.

I've been so absorbed with Cato I forgot Katniss and I are from the same district. She thought we'd be working as a team. I betrayed her.

She's ahead of us but we'll catch up to her soon. I thought she'd last longer, she's a survivor. Obviously not as good as I thought she was.

When we get to her, our soaked clothes slowing us, she is climbing a tree. It's one of the trees that grows higher than the canopy. We all gather around the base, Cato already five feet up the trunk. Katniss has expertly climbed a great height, but Cato is hot on her tail. Clove cheers him on.

He grabs a frail looking branch, which snaps in a second, and lands on the ground with a heavy thud. As he curses and hops on his good leg, holding his hurt ankle, Clove attempts to reach Katniss who looks safe at the height she's gained. Clove too, falls, just short of where Cato fell from. She doesn't hurt herself when she lands, however.

Glimmer holds up her bow and arrow, but I know she won't hit Katniss. It hits the branch near Katniss' foot. She reaches down and pulls it free with a smirk and waves it at us.

"Thanks for the arrow," she gloats, I can almost see steam blowing out of Cato's ears.

"What are we going to do? Should I shoot at her again?" Glimmer asks. Cato considers what she says.

"Maybe we should wait it out," Three says, the first time I've heard him speak without being spoken to first, "it's not like she's going anywhere."

"I guess," Cato says, reluctantly, still staring at Katniss, "Clove, Three, keep watch, we're getting some firewood."

Cato, Glimmer and I then walk into the dense forest. We find some dry land and start cutting branches down with the serrated edge of the knives Cato gives us. Nobody speaks. That is until Cato approaches me, Glimmer high in a tree cutting its branches off.

"I'm sorry for," he begins, losing his words, "I didn't mean to use you like that."

I don't look into his eyes because I know I'll give in to him if I do. Maybe I did overreact. I mean, it shouldn't be so shocking that the leader of the Careers used me. But there's more to him than that. There's Cato. The person who saved me from exploding. The person who cooked an English Breakfast. The person who can make me lost for words.

I take his hand for a brief second, gently squeezing it, giving him a weak half smile. I turn back to the branch I'm sawing, letting his hand swing back to his side. I feel him hover over my shoulder for a second, then he walks away.

When we get back, Clove and Three are sat at the base of the tree looking tired and bored. We all are. We have an unknown amount of time to spend waiting for Katniss to give up.

Exhaling, I sit down against a tree, thanking the canopy above me for protecting my eyes against the harsh rays of the sun.

When night falls I find myself feeling sleepy earlier than I usually do. I guess it's because I didn't get much sleep last night. I tell the group I'm not that hungry and find a spot away from Katniss' tree so that I can have some peace and quiet.

**Cato**

_"No, it's fine," I say._

_How badly do I suck? Imagine this scenario: a guy you just kissed makes you go skinny dipping with him and comes up with reasons for physical contact. Isn't it obvious he's making a move on you?_

_Peeta can't be that oblivious, can he? Just thinking about him makes me hot. He's as built as I am. And his cock's a fair size, I'm obviously bigger. _

_I start stroking my dick. __It's not long before I'm fully hard, wanking over Peeta. I hope he doesn't walk out the tent and see me. Then again, maybe he'll have a change of opinion if he sees what he'll be working with. I get out the water and squat next to my clothes. I continue wanking hard to the image of Peeta. His cock swinging, hitting his legs as he rushed to get out of the water. I grab the nearest thing to me and cum on it to the thought of having my way with him._

_Oh god. I've left a stain on my shirt. I throw it into the water, dry myself off and get dressed. Hopefully Peeta won't notice the stain, or wonder why it's there._

**Peeta**

My eyes shoot open when I hear Glimmer screaming. There's a deafening buzzing sound and when I stand up I see a haze around her that she's swatting at. It's a swarm. I feel a prick on my arm. I hit what ever just stung me and when I see what it is I run as fast as I can.

That was a hive of tracker-jackers. A hive of pissed-off-blood-thirsty tracker-jackers. I hear the deafening sound of the cannon which makes the ground shake and can only guess that Glimmer is dead. The air feels like water. I'm trying to swim and kick but I just can't stay afloat.

There's a girl ahead of me. She's running, leaving a trail of orange flames and bright sparks. It's Katniss. _Katniss._

She's the one who set the tracker-jackers on us. As I swim towards her I wonder why her flames haven't been extinguished. How can she run through the water so effortlessly? She turns right but Three comes out of the blue depths and stops her, telling her to run left because "he's coming."

I guess he's talking about Cato. Maybe Cato can help me make sense of this. Why is nobody else swimming? Of course! It's the tracker-jacker venom. I must be tripping badly.

When I see Cato walk out from behind a bush, brandishing a baguette, the water starts sinking.

"Peeta, why are you helping her escape?" he says, looking as if he's going to fall over. Does he think Three is me? I step out into Cato's line of view. He looks at me then at Three.

"How...? There's two..." he says, holding the baguette higher. I float over to him, making sure not to pop the bubble that I'm flying on. When I look at Three his shadow is there, but he isn't.

"Why would you help Katniss?" Cato asks. I take hold of the baguette but he doesn't give it to me. I look at my hand and water starts dripping from a hole in my palm.

"That wasn't me helping Katniss," I say, clenching my hand, trying to stop the water from draining out of me. I use my good hand to lower Cato's right hand, thus lowering the baguette. I don't understand how it could cut me, or why I'm bleeding water.

"It was you, I saw you! You told her to run, why would you do that?" He says, raising his baguette again. It scrapes along my thigh, making a black substance crawl out of my leg, along my thigh then drop to the floor and scuttle off. More of this stuff comes out. Not alive, yet somehow moving.

I fall to the floor, holding back vomit each time a slimy creature comes out of my wound. It becomes too much and I feel stones being dragged out of my throat into my mouth. I spit them on the ground, then they start to flutter away. Their wings growing, each one changing colour, flying into the sun. Taking the form of butterflies. Clove approaches me, but her arms are so long she has to drag them behind her.

"Peeta, what are you doing?" Cato asks, not to me but to her. Cato chases her with his baguette, shouting "Peeta, come back!" Does he not realize I'm on the ground?

The black coming from my leg begins to pour out. So much so that I begin to choke. I try to hold my head above the rising level of the thick, dark stuff. But my arms are melting and I am, too. I can't see anything. I can't even close my eyes. I give in to the force dragging me down. I'm nothing but a black puddle.

**Cato**

_Seriously, what is wrong with me? Back in my district I'd be able to seduce anybody. I'd gotten used to being treated specially because I was training to be a Career. I was treated like I was better than most, so I'd act like I was better. You'd be surprised how many people you could get just by bigging yourself up._

_But with Peeta, he sees through it. I started out wanting to use him but since I've gotten close to him I've realized that the feelings I'm faking may be real._

_I'm trying to sleep but I can't knowing that he's in the cornucopia, unguarded. I need to give him some time alone. I lie down next to the door, unzipping it slightly, letting me see out into the field. I have a view of it from here. Giving me some piece of mind._

* * *

**A/N: **If you didn't figure it out, the italics are flashback to the previous chapter. I don't know why this took so long to write, considering it's not that long. Oh well. Hopefully Cato's flashbacks cleared up any questions raised in the previous chapter. Also, sorry the flashbacks don't specify when in the previous chapter they happened. Please review with your questions/opinions, after all it's you guys I'm writing it for.

**Abugsaunt:**

Well, I'm glad it was your favourite, I hope this one lives up to it. I was thinking about making a Cato pov chapter while writing the last chapter and after what you said I decided I'd add it to this one. Yeah, I find myself forgetting major plot stuff sometimes which I really shouldn't.

**MangoMagic: **

I didn't think it was going to be that long but I just kept writing :') I was hoping the Peeta/Cato scenes would be enjoyed, but I have to remember that Peeta has to go through some development before actually doing anything with Cato. So, hopefully, both of their fantasies will suffice in the mean time.

**RueRajaram: **

Thanks! Let me know how you like the rest of the story :)

**Alykat14: **

I'm hoping to work towards some Peeta/Cato action. A head canon that I have is that being gay is very big in the Capitol at the time. So the star crossed boys could be a thing. The rebellion starting early is a good idea, but I don't really know how to put it into the story if that makes sense.

** : **

Thanks, I'm really glad you like it :) I'm updating as regularly as I can.

**SakuraDrops141: **

Thank you! Yeah, Glimmer is a bit of a slut :')


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Peeta**

I'm vaguely aware that I'm awake but I don't move or open my eyes. It feels like there's an iron weight inside my head, forcing me to stay down. I don't fight it. Only when I hear a clap of thunder do I fully remember that I'm in the arena. I stand up, surrounded by green, my head throbbing. I have no idea where I am or which direction leads where. I could walk miles and miles one way without the scene changing.

I wonder how long I've been asleep. When I look at my arm I see there's a swollen bite the size of a grape. There's another on the palm of my hand. And another on the inside of my thigh. I squeeze my palm and wince when it feels like a needle is sliding through my skin. The bites are probably infected.

I pick a direction and start walking. It's noon and the canopy above can only do so much to stop the sun from dehydrating me. As I take my jacket off I notice my tongue feels like sand paper in my mouth.

The last thing I remember is... Is... Nothing. I only have the feeling that Katniss should be dead. Did we attack her? Are they all dead? Did I wake up where their bodies were, the only survivor? _Shut up, Peeta, he's not dead, _I tell myself.

There's nothing I can do to occupy my mind other than let it wonder, like I am now, through the trees. Katniss couldn't have killed all the Careers by herself. She must've had help from somebody. As I inspect the three bites I have I guess that tracker-jackers are responsible. Maybe she didn't get help from somebody, but some_thing_. Or _things_. What if she set a hive of tracker-jackers on us, but by doing so ended up killing herself too? She can't still be alive because she'd see that I'm alive and would've come back for me.

I try not to think of the probability that Cato is dead, but in the hours I walk through the quiet woods it's all I _can_ think about. Why did I have to be so childish and not speak to him, or at least hear his side of the story? Why was I so stubborn? He came to me to try to patch things up between us and I didn't even talk back to him.

How long have I been aimlessly walking? For all I know I've walked around in circles for hours. It looks like it's late afternoon. My dry tongue licks my dry lips. I need water, desperately.

I stumble forward, hoping to find a pond, stream or anything. I must have been asleep for a long time if I'm this dehydrated. I feel myself weakening at a rapid rate. I cling to a tree and slide down the trunk. I end up lying on the ground, unable to get back up. I look ahead and see the sun casting the sky with an orange glow, making the lake shimmer like fiery glitter. Lake? Am I hallucinating?

I pull myself up, leaning against the tree. Looking ahead, the sun is setting behind the mountain, the vast lake just beneath it. I'm only a few minutes away. Using the last of the energy I have, I get to the lake edge and drink as much water as I can without choking. I should have purified the water first, but there are worse things that could happen to me right now.

I sit, watching the sky deepen to a pinky-red and look at the Career camp. It looks deserted. I walk to the tent hoping I'll find him asleep and that I've wasted my time thinking of worst case scenarios. I take a deep breath then walk in.

It's exactly how it was left. Sleeping bags strewn across the floor because we left in such a hurry. Nobody has been back. It hasn't been touched for days. That's assuming I was asleep for two days. I must have been. I had the venom of three tracker-jackers in me.

What am I to do now? I should leave, I'm not safe. The other tributes know that I'll eventually return here. It's only a matter of time. But... I can't leave. I don't know why. Something inside me is telling me to stay. After all, there's still a possibility that he's alive, just not here. If only I knew.

I sink to the floor. Holding my head in my hands, trying to hold back whatever is trying to break free. I stop myself from crying, but curl up in the fetal position. I hug my knees, hoping I don't have to think any more.

Darkness falls and the national anthem is heard throughout the arena. I walk out the tent, but it seems pointless because I know there won't be a face in the sky tonight, I haven't heard the cannon today. I sit down on the soft grass, expecting to see the Capitol seal but instead see the portrait of a girl with a huge ' district ten' under her painted across the black night.

I don't remember hearing anything. Did she die before I woke up? I was woken by thunder but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Of course, I was woken by the cannon. I should have figured that out earlier. It was probably the guy from eleven who got her. He's huge. I hope we're not the last two, I wouldn't want to take my chances against him.

He could ambush at any minute. Maybe I shouldn't stay in the tent. I should stay in the cornucopia, but keep a light on in the tent, it'll attract them there, giving me time to get the hell away.

Luckily there's a spare bag lying around so I pack more than enough food and water without over weighing the bag. I would go to the supplies pile to see if there's anything there I need, but it's dark and I'm not fully sure how to get past the mines, anyway.

I rummage through Clove's area of the tent and find two throwing knives. I don't find anything else anywhere in the tent. I don't know where my spear is. I guess I dropped it before I blacked out. The gamemakers will have it by now.

I flick the overhead light on and walk out, across the field and into the cornucopia. I stand at the mouth, looking at the darkness. I wish I had a light. I'm pretty sure I see something at the back. Of course, I left my sleeping bag in there the other day. No. It's moving. Somebody is sleeping in there. I hold the knife that's strapped to my side. A bead of sweat slowly runs down my face.

"Who's there?" I ask, my voice echoing off the metal.

I wait a few seconds for a reply but I only hear gentle breaths. I look over my shoulder and at the sides of the cornucopia to check if anybody is sneaking up on me.

"Hello?" I call. I repeat myself a few times until I hear agitated grunts. Whoever it is is waking up. I hear the rustling of fabric as the person stands up. I step back, waiting for the moonlight to show who this person is. With my free hand I reach into my back pack for my second knife, now both hands holding one.

The person steps closer, a few steps away from me, almost visible. With one more step I see his face and I see the moon in his blue eyes. My throat closes up and my heart feels like it's going to float out of my body. The knives aren't in my grip any more and I've thrown myself at him before they hit the ground.

I don't let go of him for a good few minutes. If I let go I'm afraid he'll go away and it'll just be my imagination telling me he's here. It can't be, though. His hand on my waist, my hand stroking his hair, our chests pressed together. It feels so _real. _I pull away so I can look at him.

"Cato, what happened to your face?" I ask, horrified by the huge bite he has on his cheek. He puts a hand to it, as shocked as I am to find a bite there. There's another on his hand, and three more on his arms.

"I..." he begins, his voice trailing off.

I walk him to the tent where we'll be able to see each other better.

"I think they're infected," I say, examining each bite, "like mine."

I hold his hand, taking in the immense gratitude I have for him being alive. I would call it divine intervention but the only higher power I believe in is the Capitol. It's like I'm looking into a mirror of emotions, I shouldn't have doubted what he felt for me for a second.

"What happened?" I ask, confused, but thankful, about why he's alive.

"I don't know, my memory's fuzzy," he replies, concentrating.

"Mine too, I don't remember what happened at all,"

"Well, I do remember, it's just... Like if you try to remember something that happened so long ago that there are chunks missing and some bits don't make sense." I give a nod of encouragement, "We were hunting Katniss and she was in a tree, I don't know why, and when I woke up Glimmer was screaming. She ran off and this cloud followed her, then she just dropped. I felt this pain in my arms and face and I just ran because I thought the cloud would come for me. It was probably then that I realized they were tracker-jackers because I started tripping badly, it just felt so weird. I ran as fast as I could, when I thought I saw you so I followed you, but you were running away from me. You were telling Katniss to run. I thought you'd betrayed me."

"I'd never do that," I say, squeezing his hand harder. He waits a few seconds before continuing.

"Well, I had my sword so I was going to go after her, but then you jumped out. Like there were two of you. You walked out of the bushes and came up to me and tried taking the sword from me. You had a sting on your hand and you were just staring at it like something was happening to it. I'm not sure why but you just fell to the floor and you started choking, like you were drowning. Then you, a different you, walked out from the bushes again and I was going to..." His eyes start to well up.

"Hey, it's okay," I say, pulling him into my chest, cradling him.

"I was going to kill you," he says, "I'm so sorry."

I continue hugging him until he calms down. I didn't realize he would beat himself up so much about trying to kill someone. I should be alarmed that it was me he tried to kill, but I know it was because of the venom why he did it.

"Cato, you had so much of that stuff in your system, it wasn't you who was in control." I reassure him, "So what happened after you chased me?"

"Well, I forgot about the Peeta who was on the ground. I started chasing the Peeta that just appeared, then another Peeta joined him and I was chasing them both. This is really confusing, sorry. But I chased the two Peeta's back to the camp and there wasn't a cornucopia, there was this huge thing. Like a monster and it ate me. Then I woke up here."

I take in what he says. Did he actually chase me back to camp or was his drug induced mind telling him that I was everywhere? Probably the latter. He said he saw me fall to the floor and choke, so that was probably the real me. Seeing as that part of his story happened in the woods and that was where I woke up.

So the two Peetas he chased, maybe they were actual people that he saw as me. They were chased back here. So maybe they were Clove and Three. It's beginning to make sense.

"Maybe you were chasing Clove and Three, but saw them as me," I say.

"Oh my god," he says as it dawns on him.

"Clove sees you running at her with a sword and doesn't know what to do so she runs away hoping you'll sober up. But when you black out in the cornucopia she and Three take off, thinking that you've turned against them," I think aloud.

"Wow, that's brilliant, how did you figure that out?" he asks.

"I don't know, just guessed," I say, modestly, "So tomorrow should we look for them? We can explain what happened."

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Clove wouldn't have left if she wasn't one hundred percent sure the alliance was over. We'll need to be careful," he explains.

"We need to get some disinfectant on our stings tomorrow," I say through a yawn, "I'm too tired to do it now."

He opens his arms, beckoning me to lie against his chest. I do so and feel his heartbeat close to my ear. It calms me and my whole body relaxes into him. His hand runs up and down my back. I've never been touched like this before. My breathing slows and I let my mind wander.

* * *

I know I'm awake but don't feel the need to get up. I'm lying on top of Cato, my head on his rising and falling chest, our hands entwined in our sleep. I don't notice myself being pulled back under.

I feel the cold plastic flooring of the tent on my cheek. It's uninviting so I feel around for Cato. Where is he? I grudgingly open my eyes, rubbing away the sleep that gathered over night. He's not in the tent.

I crawl to the door and look out, the brightness hitting me. He's sitting at a fire, cooking something in a saucepan. After stirring the contents and putting a lid on it he turns and sees me. With a cheerful smile he walks over to me and plants a kiss on my cheek, before retrieving a small cube of shiny silver from our chest of food.

I follow him out and watch him unwrap the cube and see that inside there's a brown cube that crumbles easily.

"What is that?" I ask as it makes what was once clear water a murky muddy colour.

"Calm down, it's just stock," he says, looking at the shock on my face, "it makes it taste nicer."

"Really?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yes, trust me," he says as he returns to his stirring.

I sit down, keeping an eye on the pot while he gets some vegetables, picking the grass absently. I watch the sun reflecting off the lake, it's become a habit of mine. The beauty of this place still sends shivers through my spine.

Cato returns with a carrot, an onion, mushrooms and some meat, all in their own little plastic bags. He chops them all into chunks and puts them into the pan to leave them simmer.

"I already had breakfast but you looked so peaceful sleeping, so I didn't wake you," he says, giving me a smile that makes me remind myself to breathe.

"It's fine," I say.

I lie back and wait for the food to cook. It's been a while since I've eaten anything and as the aroma fills my nose my stomach starts making funny noises.

"Is it nearly ready?" I ask after I can't take the hunger. He opens the lid and looks at a chunk of meat.

"Sorry, it's gonna be a while," he says, I try my best not to look disappointed.

I go to the tent and get a bread roll, hoping it will ward off my hunger. When I return I see Cato has added more fuel to the fire, making it bigger.

"You didn't have to do that," I say taking a big bite of bread. It's weird, the bread has been in that box for days but it still tastes fresh.

"Yeah, well... Tough," he says with that caring smile I love.

By the time I've finished my bread roll, deliberately prolonging each bite, what ever Cato is cooking is done. He ladles a bowl for me and it I realize it's just a broth. It seems so weird that a brown cube is what gives it its flavour.

After we've eaten we sit in silence. We should do something but it's so tranquil, I wouldn't want to break it.

"We need to do something," Cato says after a half hour of nothing but hearing the light breeze.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I say, standing up and stretching.

"Maybe we could set some traps in the woods?" he asks.

"Do you know how to make them? I can only remember one type," I ask back.

"I'll show you the ones I know, come on" he says, walking to our supply pile.

He directs me through the safe route then goes to the other side of the mound. Inside a box are neatly assorted length of rope, nets and trip wires. All the things needed to make traps, I assume. He hands me just about the entire contents of the box while he collects as many swords, spears and daggers as his arms can carry. Which is a lot.

We walk back to the tent and drop what we're holding outside. Cato goes to the box to fill a bag full of food, should something go wrong, but I show him that I beat him to it yesterday. We pack our bags with the ropes and nets equally and divide the weapons between us. Cato gives me a knife holder that I strap to my good thigh. Then I remember, we forgot to disinfect our bites.

"Cato, we need to go back and get some medicine," I say, worriedly.

"It's fine," he says, putting his hands on my shoulders, "we have a small first-aid kit in here somewhere that'll do for now."

He goes behind our food crate and retrieves a small green box with a white cross on it. He throws it to me and I put it in my bag.

"You ready?" he says putting his arms into the straps of his backpack.

I check that my two throwing knives are in their holder, along with a dagger and small-sword, while I carry my new spear. I give Cato a nod and we exit the tent and into the greenery.

* * *

An hour into our walk I find myself holding Cato's hand. I'm confused as to how this came about. But I'm definitely not going to let go. It feels nice. I'm not sure if it's because I've never held anybody's hand before or if it's because it's Cato's hand I'm holding. Or maybe because I can imagine my mother being forced to watch this, boiling with rage and there's nothing she can do about it.

I snicker at my thoughts and Cato hears me.

"What?" he asks, showing a hint of amusement.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about my mother. I bet she's really pissed off," I say.

"Why would she be pissed off?" he asks with a laugh.

"This," I say, holding our hands up briefly, then letting them fall. For a second I don't pretend to find it funny, letting it show on my face, but quickly start smiling again when I notice Cato staring at me. We continue walking, I keep my eyes on the path.

After a few minutes he unexpectedly pulls me into a hug. I don't see why it's necessary but I like it just the same. The two of us stand there, holding each other. It's like I can forget everything when he's around. The arena, imminent death, the fact neither of us can be together for long. Neither of us have talked about it but we can't put it off for much longer. He plants a small kiss on my forehead and we start walking again.

* * *

After walking for what felt like an eternity we pick a good spot to make a trap. Cato explains the mechanism behind the traps to me and we both begin tying rope to tree branches.

"So should I tie the rope around here?" I ask, holding the end of my rope to a branch.

"Maybe a bit higher," he says before testing a trip wire he'd made.

I tie the rope, making sure it won't come loose, then wait for further instruction. Cato's fiddling with a length of rope, tying then untying it, looking more flustered each try.

"What are you trying to do?" I ask.

"It's a type of knot I need to do, but I can't remember how to do it," he says, throwing the rope away in frustration.

"Oh, I see. Is there something I can do?" I ask.

"Besides doing the knot, we need to get the net up and set,"

"Well why don't we do that?"

"Yeah, I guess it'll give my mind a break,"

We both get the net out and spread it on the floor. At the four corners there are loops that we tie separate lengths of rope to. We then tie the four ends of the rope together to one thicker, longer length of rope.

"Now, we need to attach a pulley to one of the higher branches, add a weight, then it'll be done," he says.

"Great," I say with a smile.

We decide to take a small break. I have a bottle of water and share it with Cato. We both lie down on the net, it makes for an okay picnic blanket. Cato rolls over on his back, and I copy him. Every few minutes I hear the mockingjays singing to each other. One sits on a branch above our heads.

"That'd be the ideal place to put the pulley," Cato whispers to me, indicating where the bird is perched, I give a slight nod in reply. He starts to whistle a small melody, the kind of tune you make up when you're bored. The bird waits a few seconds then sings it back perfectly. Another mockingjay joins the first on its branch and sings along with it. Within minutes the area is alive with the sound of Cato's song.

The birds sing in perfect unison and the scene is so perfect I can't help but nudge closer to Cato. He puts his arm around me and I feel the swollen stings on his forearm. We really need to do something about it. It's weird, Cato doesn't seem to be that worried about them. And he got his memory back, where as I can't remember a thing.

"Cato, why do you think I can't remember anything? I mean, I only got stung three times and can't remember a thing, but you got stung loads and can remember fine," I ask.

"If you've had tracker-jacker venom in your system recently then any venom added to it has a stronger effect on your body,"

"Huh. But I haven't been stung by a tracker-jacker-" He didn't say 'if you've been stung', he said 'if you've had tracker-jacker venom in your system'. Meaning there's more than one way to have it enter your body. I remember the morning of them games I woke up with no memory. Maybe I have had it in my system recently. Does Cato know more than he's letting on?

"What?" he asks.

"Huh?" I ask back.

"You just stopped talking," he says, laughing.

"Oh, I was just... thinking, that's all," I say, looking back up at the mockingjay. It's flown away and the trees are silent now.

"Well," he says jumping up, "we'd better get back to work."

It doesn't take long for us to finish the booby trap. I attach a pulley system to the branch the mockingjay was sitting on and find some heavy rocks to use as a counterweight to pull the net up when somebody falls into the trap. Cato figures out how to do the knot that he was so stressed out about. Lastly, we cover the net with dead leaves to camouflage it.

* * *

After setting our fourth trap, we decide it'd be a good idea to head back. We know it'll still be a few hours before we get to the camp so we decide to eat food when we start getting hungry.

I climb up a huge boulder, hoping it will be high enough to give me a view over the trees. It isn't, I just see further into the forest. However, the top of the stone is relatively flat and I suggest to Cato that it'd be the ideal place to have some food. He agrees so we sit down on our coats and open up our bags.

We seem to have an abundance of the bread and fruit that stays fresh for days, so I have two bread rolls with cheese and an apple. It doesn't fill me up, but we can't be more than an hour from base, so it'll just be a small snack to keep me going until we get back, where I can cook supper.

"I need to take a leak," I say.

Cato nods his understanding and I climb down the front of the huge rock. I jump to the ground and when I take a step back something catches my right ankle and I fall backwards. I look down at my ankle to see what caught it when, in a rock crevice, I see the district ten tribute. I lie, frozen.

He walks closer to me and the only thing I can do is manage shuffle backwards. Behind him I see Cato, high on the rock. He does kicking and stabbing motions.

"Hey!" He shouts.

I doubt Ten would be this stupid, but he actually turns around, away from me. In a flash I take the small dagger out of its holder and put the handle to my chest, blade pointing upwards. As Ten turns back around I kick his shin with all the force I can muster. He grabs hold of it, raising it off the ground and I pity his naivety, but knowing compassion isn't an advantage I kick his other shin, making him fall forward.

He lands on me with a thud, I see the tip of my dagger poke out his back. My hands become warm and wet as blood gushes out of his chest, saturating my clothes. I shove his body off me, hearing the cannon blast in the background, and try to fight the impulse to vomit at my blood-soaked front. Cato walks over to me and pulls the dagger from Ten's body.

"Nice job," he says, looks at the boy's stab wound, "right in the heart."

"I just killed somebody," I state.

"Exactly, you killed him quickly, no unnecessary pain," he says, as if it was a compliment.

I don't reply, but take my shirt off. I wipe blood off my hands, but they're stained pink.

"Whoa, give me a warning next time," he says, admiring my body, making no attempt at subtlety.

I can't help but smile at his flattery as I search for a spare shirt. I can't find one.

"Do you have a another shirt?" I ask.

"Besides the one I'm wearing, no. I guess you'll just have to walk around bare-chested," he says with a sly smile.

"Come on, I want to get back before it gets dark," I say, so he climbs back up the rock face and throws down our non-lethal items. I step back while he throws our spears and swords. He jumps down and I hand him his weapons, then we make our way back.

To begin with I don't mind the temperature, but after a while the cold begins to raise goose-flesh along my skin. Also it would be humiliating if it got so cold that my nipples become erect and Cato saw. I try not to shiver but eventually I can't help it.

"Cold?" he asks as I notice him looking at my chest. _Oh no,_ I think as I look down at my chest, too. I immediately hug myself, covering my nipples. Cato takes his jacket off, chuckling darkly, and puts it around my shoulders.

I go to put my arms in the sleeves, but hear an almighty boom echoing through the forest. It's too loud to be the cannon.

"What the _fuck _what that?" I ask.

We both stare at each other in utter bewilderment. I wonder what would be capable of creating such an explosion and it seems Cato figures out as soon as I do. The mines.

We both run, faster and faster in blind panic. It takes a surprisingly less time amount of time than I thought it would take to get back. I see smoke in the sky and when we run out into the opening our worst fears are confirmed.

Flaming clumps of debris are dotted all across the field, centred around a huge crater jetting up thick, black smoke into the twilight sky. Cato squats down, picking up a piece of burned plastic, then throws it back, brows furrowed. I crouch next to him, placing my hand on his back. He brushes it away and walks off, back into the trees.

"I need to kill somebody," he says without looking back.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long, but I hope the length makes up for it. Any guesses as to who caused the explosion? Please review, I enjoy hearing what you guys think and what you have to say. Thanks!

**Abugsaunt: **

It was a nice change for me to show what Cato's thinking, but I won't be doing too many chapters like that because it will end up confusing people (including me). I was looking at the earlier chapters and I couldn't believe how bad some of the grammar is so that's going to be one of my main concerns from now on. I'm pretty sure it's you who said the longer chapter I made was your favourite, so here's another!

**Guest: **

Like the story title suggests, I'm going to go parallel to the book but some things I'm changing. I'm making it my own and if you don't like it, that's fine but you said you love it so that's great, thanks!

**MangoMagic: **

Yeah, I'm sorry for confusing you. If I do chapters like that in the future I'll be making it's more clear where in the story it is. If there's still any doubt in your mind: Glimmer is dead. Enjoy!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Whoever did this knows what they're doing. They must have been watching us because they decided to wait until we left before they blew our supplies up. They'll be long gone by now.

When day turns to night I notice my appetite disappearing. Any time soon the dead will be projected across the sky. I keep expecting to hear the cannon, then see Cato's face seconds later. At least then I'd know for sure that he's dead. If I hear the cannon tomorrow I'll kid myself into thinking he's alive.

I'm not sure whether time passes quicker than it usually does or if I actually manage to get some sleep, but outside the cornucopia I see the sky brighten. I didn't see Cato's face in the sky last night, and I haven't heard the cannon since. I chew on a packet of crackers, knowing I need energy.

Maybe I should look for him. He's not coming back until somebody is dead and I'm going to go insane if I have to wait any longer. At the back of the cornucopia I find the den I made a few days ago when I separated from the group. I find a spare shirt and put it on, then my jacket, put on the bag, grab my weapons and head into the woods.

I don't know why I expect I'll be able to find Cato. He left last night so he'll be miles ahead of me. Still, I aimlessly trek through the trees. I come across the rock face where the district ten boy attacked me yesterday. His body's gone, the area's clear. I see the crevice he came out of, had he been living in there? I squeeze through the diagonal gap and see there's a chamber inside. It's dry and the floor is flat, about the size of my room at the training centre. The opening is almost invisible. There's no way you can see it from the outside. I take a mental note should we need to hide here.

I step out and look at the opening from a distance and sure enough it's almost undetectable. I climb to the top of the rock and look into the distance. It's idiotic to think I'll see Cato. But there is something in the far distance. A shift in the trees. Is it a branch swaying in the wind or a tribute? I crouch down, squinting my eyes. There's definitely somebody there, running. It's a girl. She's got her hair in a braid. The weapon she's holding, I'll bet it's a bow and arrow.

I climb down the back of the rock. Luckily, I doubt she saw me, if she did it'll take her at least five minutes to run here, anyway. I have a head start. I run as fast as I can for a few minutes, weaving effortlessly through the trees, then stop to see if she's behind me. I can't see anything but I decide to jog forward just in case.

I take a small break, sitting in an area of birch trees, as long as I keep an eye out, I'll see anybody who's coming. I see one solitary oak tree and throw my spear at it, testing my aim. I impress myself each time, not missing the tree. I begin to challenge myself at hitting just the centre of the tree.

"Katniss!" I hear a faint voice in the distance. I dismiss it, not sure whether I'm hearing anything or not.

"Katniss!" I hear again, but louder. It's a girl's voice. That girl from district eleven. I guess her and Katniss formed an alliance. She reminded me of Katniss' sister, Primrose.

She must be caught in one of our nets. It won't be long until Cato and Katniss hear her, if they haven't already. If Katniss sees us we won't last two seconds against her deadly aim. I run to the tree and pry my spear from the bark.

Every few seconds I hear a weak voice shouting 'Katniss!' or 'help!'. I follow the noise until I'm only a few minutes away from it. I don't go as close as to see her, just in case she sees me. I walk in a big circle around her until I see either Cato or Katniss. It won't be long until either one shows up.

I edge closer to the source of the frantic calling. I hide from tree to tree until I can see her, suspended above the forest floor. The net has her incapacitated. She'd be an easy kill if it wasn't for Katniss being in close range to us.

I climb a tree, unnoticed by her, and have a decent view of the area. If Cato comes I'll be able to see him and be able to stop him before he kills her. Maybe I should let him kill her. I don't want to be the one to do it. But if he does kill her Katniss will know we're here. As long as she doesn't see us we'll be fine.

Rue seems to be taking longer gaps between crying out. Maybe she'll shut up. Instead she starts whistling a peculiar tune consisting of four notes. Maybe it's just her way of staying calm. Only when a mockingjay above me copies her tune do I realize what she's really doing. It's a signal.

I see Katniss in the distance running this way. I turn, so I can jump down, but I see Cato coming from the opposite direction. I misplace my foot and end up falling to the floor, twisting my ankle. I glue my mouth shut, suppressing the curses I'd usually be shouting as sharp stabs of pain run along my ankle. I limp around the trees and manage to intercept Cato before he gets us killed.

"Peeta, what are you _doing?_" he asks, trying to get past me, spear ready in his hand.

"Shhh! Katniss is coming, we need to get out of here," I whisper.

"Good, we'll take her down too," he says, walking past me, almost letting Rue see him before I grab his shirt, "what the hell, Peeta?"

"Cato, Katniss is on her way and somehow she has the bow and arrows," I plead, he rolls his eyes, "please..."

He gives me an apologetic look, then turns and begins to walk.

"Tributes," A voice booms from every angle, "there has been a slight rule change."

I exchange a curious look with Cato. A rule change, this has never happened before.

* * *

**Haymitch**

Standing outside the gamemaker's main control room, Haymitch waits for the head gamemaker, Seneca, to walk down the corridor. He taps his foot impatiently. There's a screen in the corner, it shows Peeta running towards the sound of Rue's screams. It won't be long before Katniss hears too.

Seneca strides down the shiny corridor, peacekeepers flanking him. He opens the door to the control station before the drunk from district twelve taps his shoulder.

"What? I'm busy," he asks impatiently.

"Have you thought about what I asked you earlier?" Haymitch asks hopefully.

"I told you. There's no way of bringing Peeta and Katniss together. It just won't work. Our priority right now is Peeta and Cato, that's what the Capitol wants," Seneca explains, probably for the third time today.

"I know, I know. I have an idea I think you'd like, shall we?" Haymitch begins, hinting they continue in the control room. With an exasperated sigh Seneca leads Haymitch in.

Haymitch looks at the central table where a scale hologram of the arena sits. Numbers stand where each tribute is. A wide screen divided into eight, watching each tribute, is the opposite wall. Seneca clears his throat, getting Haymitch's attention.

"Yes, my plan," he begins, fidgeting his fingers, "like you said, the Capitol loves Peeta and Cato, so why don't you give them what they want?"

"What exactly are you proposing?" Seneca asks, crossing his arms, trying to figure out the real intent of Haymitch's plan.

"We say that if the winners are an alliance of two, then they can both win, the Capitol will go crazy,"

"But not all of them are in alliances of two," Seneca says, intrigued by the idea of two people winning.

"It's only the girl from five and the boy from eleven who aren't, we bring them together then we announce the rule change and they'll be allies," Haymitch says with an excited grin.

"Yes, but what if the alliances break-" Seneca begins, his face turning into a sly smile, "You're still trying to make Peeta and Katniss win. You think they'll get together if Cato and Rue die,"

Haymitch wipes sweat from his forehead, needing a drink badly.

"Okay, I'll do it," Seneca says.

"You'll what?" Haymitch asks, a shocked smile on his face.

He grabs a tablet and stylus from the person passing him and starts writing a draft of the rule change. After a few minutes of tweaking he presents it to the rest of the gamemakers. He reads it aloud and explains what changes need to be made to the games, awaiting criticism. The group give a round of applause as Seneca beams with delight. He's going to go down in history.

"Fetch Claudius," Seneca orders one of the workers, who immediately repeats the order down her earpiece.

Haymitch looks up at the screen. He'd better hurry. Peeta has just spotted Katniss and Cato, both on their way to Rue. In minutes it'll kick off. On the next screen the boy from eleven is chasing the girl from five, it won't be long before he catches her. No doubt that the gamemakers brought them together. Claudius had better hurry up. Cato walks away from Peeta while Eleven has Five cornered against a tree, seconds from ending her life.

The doors burst open and Claudius struts into the room. An attendant attaches a microphone to his jacket while a gamemaker projects words onto the wall, ready for Claudius to repeat. He clears his throat, preparing his nasal voice.

"Tributes, there has been a slight rule change." He begins, reading the auto queue, "The games are being briefly paused, allowing us to explain the implications of the rule change. Until the games are resumed tributes, allies or not, are prohibited to communicate. Any deaths to occur during this intermission will make the new rule redundant and the games will continue as usual. Each of you is in an alliance of two or is in the position to form an alliance of two. As a one-time treat, with the third Quarter Quell being next year, if the last two tributes are allied, they both become victors. You have five seconds to confirm your alliance by shaking hands with your partner. From then on alliances cannot be changed, if they're broken then they remain broken. Any alliances formed after will not be considered legitimate and the punishment for forming one will be execution. When you hear the cannon the rule will be taking effect and will have five seconds to confirm your alliance, as prior mentioned by shaking hands. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favour."

He drags the last word as the gamemakers prepare the cannon. It blasts and on the screen Clove and Three, Thresh and Five, Katniss and Rue, Peeta and Cato are all shaking hands. They each wait a few moments. Clove and Three continue sitting in silence. Thresh and Five both stand awkwardly. Katniss and Rue hug in a tight embrace. All while Peeta and Cato share a long kiss, the eyes of the Capitol on them.

Haymitch exits the room feeling like he has failed. Though the odds are one of the victors will be from his district, something that hasn't happened in twenty-four years. It's an inevitability that one of them will die, though. Once in his room he pours the liquor, not wasting time on ice cubes, telling himself, like he usually does, it'll be his first and last glass.

* * *

**A/N:** I tried making the rule change as believable as possible. I guess that's why I added the Haymitch part. Enjoy and pleeeeeease review. Thanks!

**RueRajaram: **

Thanks, there'll be more on the venom later...

**Blah-Blah-Amazing: **

Here it is, hope you enjoy. It was Katniss if you haven't figured out yet ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Peeta**

We both stand still, waiting for Katniss and Rue to leave. As soon as there's silence Cato holds my head in his hands and softly kisses me. My hand lightly touches his waist. My heartbeat increases as his hand runs down my back and he backs me against a tree.

He brings his other hand down my back, pulling me closer to him. I place my hand on the back of his head and feel his breath on my cheek. His hand explores my good thigh, then runs along the front to my crotch.

My body tingles when he gently squeezes my cock, feeling it get harder. He slowly unbuttons my trousers, making me anticipate it even more. He stops kissing me and looks down as he pulls my dick out of my trousers. He runs his hand up and down my shaft. I let out an involuntary "mmm" as his fingers stroke the head of my cock.

He bends down onto his knees and looks up at me with a devilish smile. He licks my cock from the base to the tip, keeping eye contact with me. He bobs his head forward, taking half my cock in his mouth. I let out a sigh and lean my head back as his tongue works on my dick. Bringing his head back my cock slides out of his mouth, then bringing his head forward it slides back in. He continues the action, more of me fitting inside his mouth each time. I end up feeling my dick hit the back of his throat as he blows me, and despite how he tries to control his gagging, he has to stop for minute and instead wanks me off. It's not long before I can feel I'm going to come.

"Cato," I begin, but he knows what I was going to say and in response wanks me harder. I can't help but moan as the pleasure rushes through my body. Cato takes my dick back in his mouth and I jerk my waist forward as cum jets from my cock. My hands curl into fists, I squeeze my eyes shut and my body tenses, the immensity of the feeling overwhelming me.

He continues blowing me until I begin to soften. He puts my junk back in my pants and stands up, wiping his mouth, a sly smirk on his face.

"Wow..." is all I can say.

"Come on, we should head back," he says, grabbing my hand.

* * *

"Nice, you've gotten better," Cato says as he watches my spear hit the tree I had aimed at. I watch him as he runs to retrieve it.

The sudden shock of it hits me. We could go home. Both of us could win. It doesn't feel real. When he returns I take hold of his hand. I hold his other one, making him drop the spear.

"We could actually do it," he says, leaning forward for a kiss. It's like electricity is running through us, making my stomach do back flips.

"We'd better make sure we win," I say when we stop kissing.

I think back to when Cato was sucking my dick. It had disappeared from my mind that the Capitol, and probably all the districts, were watching. As soon as I begin to feel embarrassed I remind myself that there's nothing I can do about it now, and that the Capitol will probably like us more for it.

What will happen if we both win? Will we be able to see each other? Will Cato even want to see me? All these questions run through my head. At least I know I won't have to live with my mother. If I get a house in the Victors' Village I won't have to let my mother live in it. I'm going to be hated by my district for siding with the Careers, not with Katniss. If I had stayed with her the rules probably would have been changed so that me and her could win. Katniss supplies most of the black market meat in district twelve, a lot of people will starve. It's inevitable that everybody will hate me.

"What's up?" Cato asks.

"Nothing," I say, returning to my thoughts.

"Come on, tell me," he insists.

"It's about time we had lunch, isn't it?" I suggest, changing the topic.

"I guess," he replies, not looking pleased and we both walk back to the cornucopia.

"Do you think it's safe for us to be here? I mean, now that there can be two victors there's more of a chance of an ambush. Not to mention everybody knows that we're here, we'll be everybody's first-" I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

"Shh," Cato interrupts, putting his hands on my shoulders, "they don't think we're stupid enough to stay here, so they won't even bother looking."

I stare at him, momentarily dumbfounded.

"Was that supposed to make me feel better?" I ask, sarcastically.

"What I meant is they won't attack us. We're going to be fine. We just need to be more... vigilant," he says, but I continue to look at him with unease.

"All right, we'll look for a new camp tomorrow, is that okay?" he asks.

"I already know one," I reply with a grin.

After lunch Cato and I return to the woods so I can show him the cave. We stop half way and take a break.

"What makes you sure this place is any good?" Cato asks after taking a big gulp of water from his canteen.

"You know that boulder where the district ten boy came out of nowhere?" I ask.

"Yeah, I saved your ass," he says with a smug look.

"Well, there's a kind of chamber inside the rock. It's barely visible," I say.

"Really? None of the crevices looked wide enough for anybody to get in,"

"It's a squeeze, yes, but the space inside is huge, bigger than the tent and it's dry, I doubt rain would leak through," I say but he looks at me in disbelief.

We pack up and continue walking. I notice Cato going faster than he usually does, I assume he wants to prove me wrong. But I'm certain of what I saw. We arrive at the small clearing and Cato stands, surveying the rock.

"And you're sure that there's a cave right in front of me?" he asks.

I roll my eyes and walk ahead of him, taking off my bag and dropping my weapons, to the cave entrance. I squeeze through and wait for Cato's reaction.

"Holy shit," he says, astonished.

Little light gets inside, just enough to stop me bumping into the walls. Cato joins me, holding his arms out, touching the wall, getting a feel for the size of the space.

"This place is amazing, Peeta," he says.

"So we'll set up camp here?" I ask.

"Yeah, but it's too late to do it today," he says, and I can't help but agree. By the time we return to the cornucopia it won't be long until sundown.

"I guess. We'll start moving tomorrow, right?" I ask.

"Sure," he says, his lips meeting mine.

I remember I owe him for the blow job he gave me yesterday. I let my hand run down his side, along his thigh and squeeze his crotch, suddenly wanting him. I feel his lips smiling, so I continue squeezing the fabric, getting a better feel for his penis. Then he puts his hand between us.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing, it's just this isn't really the place," he says.

"And the middle of the forest is?" I retort, confused, frustrated and slightly upset.

"Peeta, I don't mean like that-"

"I know what you meant," I say as I walk out to the cave.

I don't really know what he means. I just need to leave. I thought he wanted me. I don't see why he doesn't. I pick up my bag and weapons and walk back to the cornucopia. He doesn't come after me.

As I sit in the tent I feel like an idiot. It wasn't a good idea to split up like that, putting both of us in danger. I anxiously wait for him to return.

"I'm sorry," I say as he walks in. He gives me that caring smile I love.

"It's fine," he walks to me then kneels, his mouth almost touching my ear, his voice drops to a whisper, "I just don't think we should be showing them everything we have to offer right now, if we prolong it you don't know what the gamemakers will do to keep us alive."

All of a sudden it makes sense. Why didn't I see it before? The reason there can be two winners is because the Capitol likes Cato and I. So if we keep them wanting more we'll get sponsors and like Cato said, the gamemakers might interfere.

"Won't you get us in trouble for saying that?" I ask.

"They have ways of changing the footage so the wrong thing isn't broadcast. Just as long as I don't do it all the time we should be fine," he says, not a hint of doubt on his face.

* * *

"Can you remind me why we're bringing the boxes? It's not like we can fit them in the cave," I ask Cato as we carry one of the two crates between us past the cave.

"Like I said before: we dig a big hole, camouflage it making it look like forest floor with the box suspended by thin wire and it look like it's sitting on the ground, somebody comes along and falls down," he explains simply.

The kinder part of me shudders as we plan to kill somebody. But the rational part of me knows that it's what we must do, if we want to survive. I have to admit, it's a good plan, however barbaric.

"Wait, we don't have shovels, they got blown up," I state, shocked he didn't notice either.

"I was looking through the mess earlier, things that were at the centre of the pile didn't get damaged that bad because we didn't place any mines directly under them. The two metal shovels have chunks missing off the blade, but still work," he says.

When we get to our cave we deposit the contents of the box inside, then set off back to the cornucopia, leaving the box outside.

"What are we doing with the other box?" I ask when we near our old camp.

"We'll use that as a kind of... reassurance,"

"Reassurance?"

"If we leave one crate out in the open with food wrappers in it they'll get careless when they see the second crate," he explains, the theory makes sense, "or they'll be more suspicious."

"I guess," I say nonchalantly.

It feels like forever, but we get back to the tent, carry the second crate and the shovels to the cave then walk to a random area of the woods and dig a hole. It's early afternoon when we finish and my muscles ache badly. I finish off the camouflage, it being my specialty, squatting at the edge of the hole. My fingers ache, too.

"Nice," Cato says, walking past me.

"Thanks, I'm just about done," I say.

"I wasn't talking about that," he says with a cheeky laugh. I realize he was checking me out. I look back to the ground, hiding my smile, turning red. He continues walking.

I'm not sure whether the sting on my palm has gotten better or if I've grown used to feeling jabs of pain now and then. I remember I never put medicine on it. And now I can't, our supplies got blown up.

"Cato," I say, slightly worried.

"Yeah,"

"Our stings. The medicine got blown up," I say.

"Oh yeah," he says, looking at his stings, a more serious look on his face, "there's nothing we can do about it, though."

He's right. I try to put it out of my mind, but later that night as we eat supper I can't help but look at my hand every few minutes, then my forearm, then my thigh.

"Peeta, you've got to calm down," Cato says while holding my hand, circling my sting with his thumb. He manages to slightly touch it so that it isn't painful, the sentiment soothing.

"You've kept it clean?" he asks, I nod, "So there's nothing you can do, it's out of your control. Stop worrying."

A taut look grows on his face.

"Is there something you're not saying?" I ask apprehensively at his guilty looking face.

"I've been meaning to tell you something." he says, staring blankly, "When you got reaped you started making a plan with your district victor, didn't you? Well, that's what I did. But mine was a bit complex. I knew that a gay couple had never been seen in the arena before, so I planned to hook up with one of the Careers. Marvel said no and the boy from district four wasn't..."

"Attractive enough?" I ask, remembering the short, ginger, curly-haired boy who seemed so out-of-place as a Career.

"He was a traitor, anyway." he pauses for a minute, can it really be that bad? "Glimmer got caught sneaking a ring in that had a poison tip in the ring's gem, it was her district token. But they didn't know that Marvel had one of his own, with concentrated tracker-jacker venom instead of poison. I found out, took it from him and blackmailed him..."

"Blackmailed him into doing what?" I ask, sucked into the story.

"Drugging you," he says, finally looking into my eyes.

"What?"

"You were given a diluted solution of tracker-jacker venom that would give you memory loss and would allow me to plant thoughts into your subconscious," he explains.

Everything stops as the puzzle pieces slide into place and I begin to understand. I woke up after being drugged by Cato, meaning I didn't remember anything. It left my subconscious wanting Cato which is why I stayed with the Careers and why I stayed with Cato despite knowing that us being a couple wouldn't end well. Then when we attacked Katniss and the tracker-jackers attacked us, the venom gave me more memory loss because I already had it in my system. Cato killed Marvel just to keep his secret.

I have no choice but to pretend to be fine with it if I want to win.

"Hey," I say, pulling him in to a hug as he begins to cry, "you were trying to survive, you did what any of us would do."

They're the best words of comfort I can come up with, but I have to make it convincing.

"You're just saying that," he replies, looking up at me, glassy-eyed.

_Of course I am you idiot, _I think, hoping my face gives the same expression. It must do because he looks back down, like a puppy who's just been shouted at. He's asleep in minutes and I can't help but pity him slightly.

I mull over what I learned earlier. There's one thing that doesn't make sense. The only reason I thought Marvel had drugged me was because he had a tattoo on his ankle. If it was Cato's ankle I had seen walking down the stairs then that means he has an identical tattoo.

A thin line of moonlight pours through the small entrance onto Cato's face. He looks so innocent while he's sleeping. He's not somebody who wants to do bad things. He's somebody who's forced to do bad things. From a young age his parents put him into the Career Training Center. He had to volunteer to enter the arena because his entire life had been leading up to it, he didn't know any other way. He had to use somebody to make him more likely to win. He's just doing what he's been taught to do since he was a child. To win the games.

I just don't see why he had to drug me. I would have been seduced by him with or without a clear head. Maybe he just didn't believe that.

That buzz I feel when we kiss. Is that a connection between us two or is it just my mind associating it with whatever happened the night before the games?

I stay awake, keeping watch until sunrise, when Cato wakes up. He tells me to sleep but I know I'm going to end up passing out soon anyway.

* * *

When I fully wake up Cato's outside and the sky is dim. He can't keep letting me sleep in like this. He looks in and sees I'm awake, I notice he's cooking when he walks over to me with a plate.

"Thanks," I say as I blow on the leg of rabbit, at least I think it's rabbit. He smiles, then exits the cave, probably trying not to smother me.

Later he returns to the cave and we both sit without talking for a while. I should try to make conversation, for both our sakes. If I convince Cato that he's unconditionally forgiven, I'll be able to convince the Capitol. I might even be able to convince myself.

"So what's the plan for today?" I ask, enthusiastically.

"It's the afternoon," he says with a laugh, "But I guess we could go get the heater from the tent."

"All right, then," I say standing up, holding out my hand to Cato. I help him up and we set off back to our old camp. I rack my brain for an ice breaker.

"There haven't been any deaths for a few days," he says. He's right, it won't be long before something happens. I clutch the spear in my hand and feel my leg for my knives. Everything's in place.

"You're right, maybe we should look tomorrow. Who would you say is the biggest threat?" I ask, hoping there's some way the gamemakers could send a signal saying whether I'm convincing. I have to go on instinct. I hold his hand. He gives me a fake smile, but doesn't let go.

We get to the tent and see that everything inside lays undisturbed. Cato walks over to the heater and bends down, sliding his fingers under it and waits for me to go to the other side. I go to Cato and wait until he stands back up.

"Cato," I say, taking his hand, "I don't care what you did. Really, I don't. We need to focus on getting out of here, the future, not the past. What I feel is real, what I feel for _you _is real. No amount of venom could create or destroy that. You gave me thoughts, that's all, thoughts. If it wasn't for those thoughts I wouldn't have returned after the bloodbath. All you did was keep me close. So stop beating yourself up about it."

He grabs me in a tight squeeze and I rub his back soothingly.

"Are we good?" I ask. He replies with a yes after clearing his throat. I don't know what parts of my speech were true. There is something I've been wanting to do, though. It will remove any doubts the Capitol, the gamemakers or Cato has.

"Close your eyes," I say. By the look on his face I guess he knows what I'm about to do.

I unzip his flies and put my hand in his pants. It's met by warmth as I cup Cato's manhood. When he gets more aroused I start stroking him, feeling it growing. I've been secretly hoping that he isn't bigger than me, but as I feel him continue to grow I can tell he is. Keeping hold of him, I pull out my hand, letting his dick flop. I gaze down at its size. It's big. Maybe too big.

I get down on my knees and pull his foreskin back with my hand, then pull it forward. I lick the underside of his cock, then circle the head with my tongue, wetting it.

I put as much of his meat in my mouth as I can, only fitting half. Bringing my head back and forth, gently sucking, I begin to fit more of him in my mouth. My tongue licks along the vein that runs down the side of his shaft and I hear him exhale deeply.

As I suck his dick, pulling him in and out his hips begin to go with the rhythm. I feel him at the back of my throat and I pull him out before I start gagging.

I stand up and kiss him, playing with his cock. It's bigger than mine and feels better in my hands. I rub his glans and his moaning gives my lips a vibrating sensation.

I begin to wank him, starting slow then increasing the place. My hand goes up and down with speed and longing.

I notice Cato holding his breath, then letting out a long moan as I feel warm cum ooze onto my hand. The second load shoots further onto his shirt and the third lands on mine.

"You should forgive me more often," he says, probably for the Capitol, but I can't help being led by his flirtatious attitude.

We go out to the lake, the low sun casting long shadows along the grass, immersing us in twilight. We both take our jackets and shirts off then dump them in the water, letting them soak while we put just our jackets on. We don't have anything to clean them with, so we just wring our shirts, hoping there aren't any stains.

I remember we have the heater and suggest we hang our shirts over it, letting them dry quicker. Once in the tent we both sit down, shirtless and let the heater keep us warm as our shirts dry.

* * *

That night as I lay in Cato's arms, I notice it feels odd. It feels odd because it doesn't feel odd. There should be some lingering tension. All my life if I argued with a friend and we made up, the cloud always came back when ever I thought about the argument. But with Cato it's like it was never there.

"Attention, tributes. Attention. Commencing at sunrise, there will be a feast tomorrow at the cornucopia. This will be no ordinary occasion, each alliance needs something desperately and we plan to be generous hosts." I hear Claudius Templesmith's voice from all angles.

I open my eyes, noticing they've been closed for I don't know how long. Was I dreaming Claudius' voice?

"What do we need desperately?" Cato asks. I look at my palm then forearm. The stings have doubled in size. My eyes widen.

"Cato, they're infected," I say, standing up "they've got to be worse than we thought they were."

"They're just trying to scare us, Peeta." Cato says, leaning forward.

"We still need to go to the feast," I say, pacing. I look outside, it's dark, "Shit Cato, how long have we slept?"

"How should I know?" he asks, lying back down.

"Because one of us needs to be on watch at all times, maybe." I say, looking at the light we installed on the ceiling. If somebody had walked past, even at a distance, the light would have stood out against the dark. "We're leaving. Now."

"No, we're not," he replies, curling up. I need to think of a reason why we should actually leave now besides me being stubborn.

"If we leave now we can hide in the cornucopia, they won't expect that," I say, his eyes flash open.

"What if somebody else thinks of doing that?" he asks.

"We'll be waiting for them." I say, helping him stand up, "Like you said, they don't think we're stupid enough to stay there."

We grab our weapons, not bothering with food and head out the crack in the rock. I buzz with confidence and it passes to Cato.

"We're coming back," He says with such conviction that I can't help but press my lips against his. He passionately kisses me back and my chest begins to float. He grabs my hand and we run off into the night.

* * *

**A/N: **If you didn't figure it out the feast is the gamemaker's way of saying that the Capitol is convinced. Sorry i'm not a very good smut writer idk. Please review etc etc.

**Ruerajarm: **

Thanks! Insano? I hope that's a good thing. I'll try not to kill her painfully, no promises.

**MangoMagic: **

From the amount of times you said 'oh my god' I assume you don't think the rule change is out of character for the gamemakers? Yes, I'm hoping to focus more on the two of them and how Cato's confession will change the way Peeta sees him. Oh and trying not to suck at it as well.

**Blah-Blah-Amazing: **

Yay yay yay thank you thank you you're awesome.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

We both keep to the back corners of the cornucopia. The sky isn't getting lighter, but there's an almost tangible feeling that dawn is coming soon. My left hand grips my spear while my right hand hovers over my knife holster. I test the speed at which I can get my dagger out, just like I've been doing all night to pass the time. If I had to guess, I'd say it takes me under a second to stand in a defensive position with both my spear and dagger ready.

"You're a bit on edge," Cato notices, as he leans against the back wall.

"I'm making sure I'm prepared," I say, kneeling back down, sliding the dagger back in its place.

"But you've been doing that ever since we got here. Jumping up, getting the dagger out." he says, letting his sword fall from his grip, "But it's nearly dawn, so I guess I should get ready."

He jogs on the spot for a few minutes, then places one hand on his hip while reaching up with the other. I copy him when he bends down to touch his toes then stretches the rest of his muscles. I shake myself off, now warmed up and get back into position.

"Did you say something?" I ask, flicking the light off, sure I heard him whisper something.

"No, maybe-" he begins, but I lift my hand as a signal for him to be quiet.

"You shouldn't just walk in there," a voice says, a girl's voice, coming from the other side of the metal. I'm already braced and my dagger is in my hand.

A shadow stands at the opening of the cornucopia, darker than the sky that's beginning to look like a shade of blue. It's too big to be a girl. He's got to be from district eleven.

"They wouldn't be stupid enough to stay here. Look, nobody," he says as Cato and me stay to the shadows.

I hear his breathing get closer, along with the girl's breathing and I can swear the closer they get, the lighter it gets outside. It gets light enough that they see us, it takes a second for me to grab the girl, holding her in a choke hold. She knows that any attempt to struggle will be in vain.

Cato's ambush doesn't look so successful. Eleven must have seen Cato coming as I see him scramble up from the floor where he'd been pushed. Cato blocks Eleven's exit, though. I back away, so if he does get past, I might be able to delay him.

After a few petty attempts of trying to pass Cato, Eleven just crouches, shifting his weight from side to side, ready to spring. I wonder why Cato hasn't attacked him with his sword yet when I see it lying at Eleven's feet. He hasn't noticed it yet.

Cato goes to the right, making Eleven go to the left and notice the sword on the ground. Why did he do that? As he bends down, Cato lunges at him, smashing him into the metal. Both of them fall to the floor.

I can't help Cato without letting the girl go. But if Eleven gets up first he'll stab Cato. I could kill her now. Snapping her neck would be easy. Could I do it, though? When I killed the boy from district ten I didn't stand up and fight him. I made gravity do the killing. It shouldn't be in me to end somebody's life. It goes against everything human. Especially when the person poses no threat to me at all.

While I have my inner monologue I don't notice Eleven sitting up. If I wanted to kill the girl I wouldn't have time, anyway. I let her go and run to Eleven before he can hurt Cato. The back of his head smashes the wall with a metallic 'gong' and the cannon fires. Did I push him that hard? No, he's still breathing. Then who's dead?

My stomach sinks as the first person in my mind is Cato, but he's breathing, too. I turn around, I hadn't noticed how bright it is. It's broad daylight, all in a matter of minutes. A table lies not far from the cornucopia, with three shining bags on top, glistening under the sun. To the left of the table lies the body of the district five girl. The fourth bag lying beside her, an arrow sticking out her chest. If I had to, I'd bet it's a direct hit to the heart. There's only one shooter who that could come from.

"Cato," I say, tapping his face. His eyelids flutter open. I notice a gash down his shin, Eleven must have picked the sword up before Cato got to him.

"What? Oh shit," he says, rubbing his head and sitting up, noticing his wound.

"Katniss is out there," I say, "we're trapped."

Cato considers my words as he stands up and paces, testing the strength in his leg.

"Help me with him?" he asks, going to pick Eleven up, I sense him formulating a plan. We carry him to the front of the cornucopia.

"Okay, what are we doing?" I ask.

"She only has a certain amount of time to reload," he says and as Eleven begins to regain consciousness I understand.

He runs out and I wait a second before following. An arrow hits his chest as I run past him to the table. The adrenaline makes me forget what to do when I get to the table. I grab two random bags and run as fast as I possibly can, feeling death behind me. I run right, to the opposite side of the cornucopia for cover as a sting hits my forearm. I look and see a line of red running off my hand.

Cato runs to me and takes the bags, grabs the hand of my good arm and drags me into the forest. The green goes by in a blur along with smudges of deep red. I begin to become more lucid as Cato and I run. From the quick glances behind I see nobody is chasing us, but that doesn't mean that Katniss won't catch us up.

When we reach the cave we wait a few seconds to check nobody is following, even though we'd know if somebody was. Once inside we drop our stuff and crash to the floor before Cato gives me by far the best kiss I've had.

* * *

"Ow!" I say as Cato wipes down my left forearm. The cut isn't deep, but it's long, going from my elbow to my wrist.

"Don't be such a baby," he says as he uses a pipette to add drops of green liquid to the bandages he just applied. "It fights infection and helps it heal quicker," he says, noticing me looking uneasy.

"Is that what was in our bag, wait, did I even pick our bag up?" I ask, remembering that I didn't know which bags I picked up.

"This," he says indicating a small glass bottle filled with green, "this is what was in the first aid kit. I haven't looked in the bags yet, you did get ours, though. And Clove and Three's bag."

He holds up a bag with a '2+3'.

"What's in it?" I ask.

"Don't know," he says, unzipping it. We both look inside and see two syringes labelled 'TRACKER-JACKER ANTI-VENOM'.

"Oh," I say as he pulls out the enclosed note.

_Tributes,_

_Inject directly into inflamed area, one notch per sting. _

_Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favour. _

Looking at the syringes, along the tube filled with a yellowish liquid there are ten distinct notches. I look to Cato, hoping to achieve some clarity.

"I guess they had stings too, probably worse than us. Come on, give me your hand," he says, taking the plastic cover off the tip of the needle.

"No, wait, what if we have some in our bag?" I ask.

"What's the difference?" he asks back.

"Their anti-venom could be stronger than ours," I say.

"All right," he says, unzipping our bag. He looks at what's inside, then to me, then back to the bag and bursts into hysteric laughter. After collecting himself he hands me the bag, looking in pain as he suppresses laughter. I warily look at my lap, where the bag sits.

I pull out a white, plastic squeeze bottle. An over-the-top logo is in the middle, but the under writing is what stands out to me. 'Lubricant for Men' it reads. I feel my face flush red. Cato sees my mortification and laughs harder. I drop the bottle back into the bag and zip it up as Cato's humour feels like mocking.

My sexuality is being dictated by millions of people. Just when I thought it was sick enough.

"Peeta?" Cato asks, my back to him, "I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you."

I turn back around to tell him I know he wasn't laughing at me. It's odd he thinks that's what offended me. Unless he's giving me the choice to pretend I was offended by that. We're supposed to be putting on a show and complaining about how sick the Capitol is won't do me any favors. Cato was only laughing hoping I'd laugh too and it'd look good for us.

"I shouldn't have overreacted," I say with a weak smile. He comes and sits next to me and I lean my head on his shoulder.

"Come on, I reckon if we use half a dose our stings will go down," he says, reaching for the other bag.

I give him my hand and brace myself for the needle. It pricks and feel the small amount of liquid enter my swollen skin. Pus begins to leak from the prick where Cato withdrew the needle.

"It's supposed to do that," he says, injecting my forearm which too begins to ooze pus.

"How do you know?" I ask, anxiously.

"I don't," he says, pulling my pants down. I should be worried that the medicine will do more harm than good but instead I wonder why I'm not stopping him from pulling my pants down, then I remember there's a sting in my thigh.

_Don't get a boner, don't get a boner, don't get a boner, _I repeat in my head. The sting is half way down my thigh so I don't have to worry about him having to pull my boxers down. He places a hand between the sting and my groan, a sensitive area that tingles to his touch. I flinch and he looks at me cheekily.

"I thought you'd have more self control," he says, injecting me with another half-notch of anti-venom.

"It's a sensitive area," I reply, looking at the gunk on my leg and realizing it isn't the best time to flirt. He gets the message too as he wipes my leg with a wipe that seems to be soaked in that same green liquid.

"Time for you, now" I say, getting the other syringe from the bag.

I tend to four of his stings easily enough, putting off the last. I had forgotten that he had been stung on his face because his face didn't look that swollen. I remember that the stylists have to do everything in their power to keep us looking good. Like how I haven't needed to shave since the games began. There must be something they've done to his face, probably mine too, to stop the swelling from effecting his looks. I tenderly put the needle where his cheek bone is, giving him a quarter-notch.

"Are there any side effects?" I ask after a few minutes of peaceful silence when I begin to feel tired.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you," he says in a relaxed tone, "since you have more tracker-jacker venom in your system the anti-venom will be more..." he considers his words, "aggressive."

"What does that mean for me?" I ask, feeling patronized.

"Headaches, nausea, tiredness," how could he forget to tell me this? "maybe a fever."

I cross my arms as I lean against the cave wall. I begin to feel hot, not sure whether it's from anger or a fever coming on. I adjust myself as the hard rock digs into my shoulder blade. I adjust myself again, tiresomely trying to find a comfortable position. My eyelids begin to drop but the rock makes my eyes flash back open.

Cato stands me up and sits where I sat and beckons me to sit on his lap. I do so, leaning my head against his chest. His arms wrapped around me feel soothing but my head feels like it's being tipped sideways. Like I've been spinning around and my head is confused thinking it's still spinning while my eyes tell me I'm lying sideways. I swallow as the underside of my jaw feels funny.

I run outside to a tree and last night's dinner makes a reappearance. Within seconds I feel Cato tenderly rubbing my back as I heave, bringing nothing up because my stomach is empty. I remember my father saying to me when I was sick as a child that I needed to eat and drink because bringing up something is better than bringing up nothing. I never understood what he meant because I couldn't understand how being sick could feel worse. As I continue to heave, tensing all my muscles, and coughing when nothing comes up, I finally understand what he meant.

I wipe my mouth and lean against Cato, my head spinning. Cato guides me back inside the cave and helps me into my sleeping bag. I pull it up to my chin as I shiver, but feel sweat forming on my forehead. I close my eyes and feel Cato placing his hand on my forehead.

"Peeta, you're burning up," he says.

I mumble incoherently as I drift into unconsciousness.

I'm woken by a bang. I sit up, seeing Cato making a net from leaves and he greets me with a smile. My head throbs horribly and despite how hot my skin is, I still burrow into my sleeping bag.

"What was that?" I ask.

"The cannon, I don't know who. Feeling any better?" he asks. I shake my head so he goes into the first-aid kit and hands me a pill with some water. I take the tablet and lie back down.

The national anthem plays and I open my eyes. The cave is empty so I go outside to see Cato. Hanging at the entrance I see the net of leaves Cato was making earlier, I brush them aside. He's sitting at the top of the boulder, looking up at the sky. I climb up and join him as I see Three's portrait beaming in the dark. Five and Eleven's faces come next, the Capitol seal is seen and with a flourish everything returns to dark.

"I wonder how he died," I think aloud.

"We have his anti-venom," he says, standing up with a heavy sigh, "it won't be long for Clove."

Cato helps me down and tucks me into my sleeping bag. My shivering keeps me awake while I hope that some sleep will make me feel better. Despite how much I wish I know it's in vain.

* * *

**A/N: **Heeeeere it is. For those of you interested, Cato sensed that Peeta was feeling pressured into having sex with Cato (what with the lube) so gave Peeta more anti-venom than he planned, so that Peeta would have a reason not to do anything he didn't want. But he doesn't have a way of telling Peeta without the gamemakers finding out. Oh and once the anti-venom has done its job, perhaps the effects it's had on him will disappear.

It's getting near the end, what do you guys want to happen? I'm interested in what you guys have to say, you won't be bothering me, I promise. I might even give some of you a preview. Who knows.

**RueRajaram: **

I'm glad it's making sense and yeah, Peeta pretends to forgive Cato but in the end knows that it's not important so forgives him. Okay, please don't kill me. I won't kill her _as painfully as I was planning to. _Don't kill me.

**SakuraDrops141:**

Thanks :) I hope you like it.

**sOMEBODYsTRANGE: **

I'm pretty sure it's called Peeto and thank you so much! You're awesome and I hope my updates are regular enough for you. Thank you again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

My dreams are filled with sex and mischief, when I wake I'm met with a problem I haven't faced but knew I would eventually. Morning wood. I try to subtly shift my pants, stopping the irritation but as Cato looks at me from under his bowl of muesli I see the corner of his mouth curve upwards. I wait a few minutes until it's not rock hard.

I sit up, feeling groggy and covered in sweat. My stings look almost invisible, though, now tiny scabs. The gash along my forearm has healed well, too. I just have to get over this fever and I'll be fine.

"How's your head?" Cato asks putting down his empty bowl, refilling it with cereal.

"I feel lousy," I say as he adds water to powdered milk, "but my stings are gone and my arm's looking good,"

"Good, mine are too. Here you go," he says, handing me the bowl.

It's been a while since I've eaten and I wolf it down hungrily, then have seconds. When I'm finished I give Cato the bowl and lay back down. The sound of the mockingjays singing keeps me relaxed as I burrow further into my sleeping bag.

The day progresses and I find myself feeling colder and colder but my body temperature increases. I presume that the effects of the pill I took last night is wearing off.

My thoughts turn back to when I woke up on the morning of the games. Up until now when I picture what happened the night before it's like I'm cutting and pasting different images together to form a new imagine. Like if I try to image somebody naked I take their face and guess what their body would look like from bodies I've seen that are be similar to theirs.

Now, when I think of the night before the games I'm not seeing a compilation of different images, I'm seeing Cato sitting on top of me, jerking himself off while jerking me off with his other hand. I'm not seeing the image, I'm living it. I remembering it.

I think back to earlier that night. Marvel had invited me to his room because earlier that day I asked to join the Careers. He guided me to Cato's floor, avoiding detection, into his room where I was offered a drink. I began to feel weird after drinking it and put my hand on the wall to steady myself. Marvel helped Cato and me back to my floor and Cato took me to my room. I lay down on my bed and for some reason Cato joined me.

I shake my head, trying not to think about it. If I do I'll get angry with Cato when I'm supposed to have forgiven him. I shouldn't have shaken my head because the throbbing in my head gets unbearably painful for a few seconds. Cato must notice me squeezing my face because I feel his arm around me.

I hear a quiet tapping outside and get alarmed, thinking we're being attacked. Then I remember they wouldn't tap first. It's rain. It becomes louder and I see drops fall outside. It becomes so heavy that it's all I can hear. The occasional boom of thunder is heard as the rain hits even harder. I let the cosy atmosphere it creates send me back to sleep.

A louder clap of thunder wakes me up. I sit up, gravity getting a thousand times stronger. Cato's etching drawings into the wall with a shard of rock. A simple pattern of wavy lines. I remember the cupcakes I decorated with colourful icing back at the bakery.

We must be on a slant because no rain has leaked in through the entrance. I manage to go and sit next to Cato without falling over and pick up a rock shard, starting my own pattern that compliments Cato's. The patterns entwine, looking like a flowing river.

"Feeling any better?" he asks when our pattern occupies the floor.

"When I walk I don't feel sick, I guess," I say, morphing the pattern to look like a fast current.

"It's a start," he says vacantly.

"How are you so good at drawing?" he asks after a while and I notice you can tell from the quality which are his parts of the design.

"Practice, I guess," I say, bringing the river up the wall.

"_How_ did you practice, I mean?" he asks.

"At the bakery I frosted the cakes, same thing basically," I say as I add a waterfall to the river.

"You said you baked bread," he says, looking at my hand flow across the stone, my shard getting blunter the more I draw.

"Bakers don't cook bread exclusively, you know. When you train you don't just lift weights do you?" I retort.

"I guess not." he says, "You went to school, didn't you? Got any friends?"

"Yeah, most of the people in my class were my friends. I know this sounds vain but I don't think anybody didn't like me. I had a best friend, Roman, but he..." I feel a lump in my throat, "never mind."

"Was he your boyfriend?" he asks.

"No, he died. Starvation." I say after a long pause, remembering when his mother told me, it was the worst moment of my life, "What about you?"

"Well... I," he begins, then looks at the river which disappears into a crack in the rock, "that looks awesome,"

Is he avoiding my question, did he have a boyfriend? Either way I should probably avoid the question, now's not the time. I let the river resurface through a different crack in the rock.

When the section is complete Cato lies in my arms, exhausted. He must have stayed up all night keeping watch.

It gets dark, the rain failing to cease, and I hear the daily announcement. Only Katniss, Rue, Clove, Cato and me are left. Once Clove is gone I doubt it'll be long until we end this thing.

* * *

"Oh shit," I say when I feel my head on the cold, hard stone. I open my eyes. Cato is at the entrance, looking outside into the rain, "sorry."

"What for?" he asks, turning around.

"Going to sleep," I say.

"I can hardly blame you, you're still fighting off the venom. Feeling any better?" he asks. Only the back of my head hurts, but that's because I've been lying against it.

"Yeah," I say with a smile. He walks over to me and places a hand on my forehead.

"You're still a bit hot, but you're getting better,"

"What's the plan for today?" I ask after a while.

"We can't really do anything," he says looking up to the ceiling, the sound of raindrops echoing.

After eating I decide to continue drawing my pattern and by early afternoon I'm finished. All around is the pattern that Cato started.

"It looks really cool," Cato says, admiring my work.

I should make an attempt to be more intimate with Cato, for the Capitol but the silence is so serene and peaceful. I'm surrounded by my own drawings and the gentle tapping of light rain. It's not as heavy as it was yesterday.

The bags from the feast catch my eye. We're going to have to use the lube if we want to win, despite how much I block it from my mind. Who's going to be the bottom? It will end up being me. How long until we need to talk about it? Hopefully I can put it off.

The cannon fires from a distance. I exchange a look with Cato as we wait for another one. Nothing but silence.

"Who do you think it was?" I ask, knowing who he's going to say.

"Clove," he says, just like I guessed.

Katniss and Rue, Cato and I are the last four. The equivalent of the last two tributes left. It won't be long before we're all driven together. It won't be long until we fight our last battle. Cato takes my hand and gives me a look of near victory, not knowing what that victory will cost.

* * *

**A/N:** It won't be long now. It's going to end. It's not a very long chapter, I know. Let me know how you want it to end, I've only had one suggestion. I just hit 50 reviews so I think I'll start putting previews a the end of the chapters. Y/N? Thanks!**  
**

**SakuraDrops141: **

Well, the Clove idea won't happen because I just killed her off :L Peeta doesn't want to kill Katniss either, but it's life or death and a lot of people depend on what she hunts, which sucks.

**RueRajaram:**

When you say Katniss better sing do you mean when Rue dies? She may have other, more important things to be worrying about.I really like your idea! Especially the parts about meeting the parents, bringing Gale into it and the possibility that Cato has/had a boyfriend. I think I'll continue this story as a different story once this hunger games is finished, like in catching fire. I have a few different ideas so I don't want to say anything until I've made up my mind. Also we'll assume that Clove's stings were really painful.

**sOMEBODYsTRANGE: **

I was hoping it would make people laugh. I was going for cute so yay! Thanks.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

I know it won't be long until the rain stops and we're all drawn together. It will probably end tonight. I don't know whether that's a good or a bad thing. What if I don't make it? Katniss is a sharp shooter. What if Cato doesn't make it? As much as I want to finish this and win, I know there are a lot of different things that could happen at the end.

"You don't suppose she hasn't got many arrows left," Cato says as we embrace each other, looking out at the wet trees.

"Maybe, how many did Glimmer have?" I ask.

"Hmm, well she started off with ten. I don't know how many she lost while trying to learn how to use it, she was pretty bad. I think when Katniss was in the tree she had five on her at that time," he says.

"At least three of them she's lost. At the feast, she killed the two from Five and Eleven and then shot one at me. If she tried to get them back from the bodies before the hovercraft arrived then she would have been spotted by Clove and Three," I say.

"I bet she hasn't used the last two, either, she'll be saving them for us," he says in a jokey tone. I don't find it amusing.

That night when we look outside it's confirmed that Clove is dead.

"Knew it," Cato says as I make us a plate of cold beans.

He grimaces while eating cold food and I realize it's been taking a different toll on him. He's used to being well fed with good food. Whereas I'm glad to be getting food at all. Though I have to admit beans taste must better when they've been heated.

I wait for the rain to stop, frequently yawning as I try to stay awake. But as Cato sleeps and it goes further into the night I know that I need some rest otherwise I wouldn't be any help should we get attacked.

"Cato," I whisper as I lightly shake his shoulder, "can you keep watch? I need some sleep."

"Yeah, sure," he says, sitting up and stretching.

"Thanks," I say before kissing his cheek and getting into my sleeping bag.

I think about how the games will end. Usually something big happens towards the finale and as this year there will be two winners I doubt that means it's going to be fun. I'm going to have to put my heart in a box if I want to win. No mercy. When it comes down to it I think I'd be able to kill Katniss, after all she tried to kill me. But her ally from district eleven. It goes against all of my instincts to harm her.

I stop thinking about, it'll only make me feel worse. I'll let Cato do what he's best at doing. My mind begins to wonder and I let it, drifting into unconsciousness.

When I wake up I expect the rain to have stopped. To my disappointment it's raining heavier than ever. We must be doing something the gamemakers don't want us to do. Or maybe we're _not _doing something they want us to do.

Maybe we're not convincing as a couple. I crawl out of my sleeping bag, over to Cato lying down with his head propped up on his sleeping bag and kiss him. He kisses me back, placing his hand on my cheek. I climb over him, my body hovering over his. His hand strokes down my back, along my waist and around my ass. My pants begin to tighten as I become more aroused.

As I start kissing his neck out the corner of my eye I see something shiny. The two bags we won at the feast. I suddenly realize what the gamemakers have been waiting for. I have no choice, I have to do it. I'd prefer to do it in my own time but there's nothing that can be done.

It was obvious from the beginning I was going to bottom. Cato's bigger then me, both his body and his manhood. I go to the bag, unzip it and take out the bottle. Cato sees what I'm doing and gives me a lusty smile. I return, figuring I might as well try enjoy it.

He sits up and when I walk over to him I sit in his lap, putting my arms around him and start kissing him again. I gently thrust my hips forward and back, feeling his erect cock and feel my cock begin to harden.

He pulls my shirt off and starts kissing my neck. The intimacy giving me shivers. I take his shirt off and resume kissing him. As his hands run up and down my bare chest I feel his want for me.

With his hand across my back Cato leans forward until I'm lying down on the sleeping bag. His hand cups my thigh then runs down to my ass. He stands up and takes his trousers off as I take off mine, his boner prominent as is mine.

He kneels down and props my legs on his shoulders, leaning forward and thrusting his hips into mine. I feel his cock rub against my ass through his boxers. He pulls his boxers down, letting his cock flop out. I gulp as I imagine how much it will hurt.

He squeezes a bit of lube onto his hand then rubs it on his cock, his hands sliding along it easily. He pulls my boxers off and begins rubbing my hole with his finger. I don't know whether it feels good or bad.

He lubes his finger and rubs me harder, putting the tip of his finger inside me. He puts it in deeper. He adds more lube and slides his finger in and out with ease, I get used to the feeling, almost enjoying it. He hooks his finger upwards and rubs inside of me. He must know what he's doing because a sudden burst of pleasure runs through me. His finger circles the area that causes such an oddly nice sensation that I feel my entire body tense.

"You've never had a prostate orgasm, then?" he asks as he continues giving me this new amazing feeling.

"I don't know what that is," I say through quick intakes of breath.

"It looks like you're having one," he says as I bite my lip.

He takes his finger out and adds more lube to his cock. He rubs the head against my now widened hole. He looks deep into my eyes as if asking whether I'm ready. I nod as my hands hold the sleeping bag we're lying on for support.

With one hand he strokes my chest, with the other he guides his dick forward, slowly. I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel the pain of my ass being stretched wider than it is intended to be. My hands turn white as I grip the sleeping bag and I wouldn't be surprised if my lip biting draws blood.

When it feels like it's too much his cock suddenly slides in, both of us letting out an unexpected groan. His in pleasure, mine in pain. I try my best to sound like I'm enjoying it, but I'd much prefer it if it was his finger in me, not the entirety of his cock.

He pulls his hips backwards and forwards at a steady pace as I get used to it. It's not pleasurable, but it's bearable. I can tell Cato wants to go faster but I can guess he knows I don't want to. He continues at a steady pace.

As Cato begins to climax he goes faster. I start to wank myself off, hoping the combination of being fucked while wanking myself will make it a nicer experience.

He thrusts his hips and breathes heavily while his hands hold my legs in the air. I let out the occasional "hmm" and "ah" remembering we're supposed to entertaining.

He fucks me harder and I see sweat build up on his forehead, I wank myself harder, a combination of pleasure and pain flowing through my body. I moan louder, spurring Cato on, moving my hips in rhythm with his.

Then I feel it. The pain subsides and his cock must be rubbing the area inside me that Cato's finger had, mixing with the masturbatory pleasure I'm having. It radiates through my body with such intensity that my empty hand balls into a fist while my other squeezes my cock harder, my toes curl, my eyes screw shut and my teeth bite down all at once.

"Cato..." I get out as I deposit a load of cum on my stomach. The second load shoots further up, on my chest. Cato stops fucking me and shoots his load on my stomach saying "Peeta," each time his semen jets out.

Cato lies down on me as we both pant, our skin sticky with sweat and semen. He leans his head on my chest and I stroke his slightly damp hair. He pulls the other sleeping bag over us, it's not a good cover but it maintains some warmth.

For a few minutes all I hear is the rain outside and Cato's breathing. I wonder if he's fallen asleep on me before he starts kissing my chest. He plants random kisses on me, then my nipples and collar bones, then goes further up, almost licking my neck. He gives me a long, lingering kiss on the lips, then stands up.

"Come on," he says going outside.

"What _are _you doing?" I ask, sitting up, covering myself with the sleeping bag.

"I'm covered in cum!" he shouts, brushing his hair back, letting the rain hit his face.

I laugh at his vulgarity and decide to join him. Most of the semen on me hasn't dried so the rain washes it off easily, it is however freezing cold. I watch as Cato rubs his arms and legs. We just had sex in front of millions of viewers. My family probably saw that. It's like it was just Cato and me. It still feels like that and I have to remind myself we're being watched.

We return to the cave and after we've dried off in front of the heater the rain begins to fade away. A huge smile widens on Cato's face. We get dressed, grab our weapons and head out.

* * *

"I haven't seen any rabbits at all, let alone caught any," Cato says as dusk begins to fall under the tree canopy.

We haven't stopped walking all afternoon, intending to hunt on the way but not finding anything. We walk back, unsuccessful in our mission to find the other two tributes. Both of us feeling tired and frankly, annoyed. By the time we return it's pitch black.

We sit atop of our bolder, weapons in our hands, looking up at the stars. They look brighter tonight. For all I know they're just projections the gamemakers installed into the arena. It's an almost romantic setting.

"It won't be much longer," Cato says, turning to me as I look up, "we've been out all day and haven't seen them so it's got to end tonight."

He intended for those words to settle me but now I'm more on edge. Are we supposed to wait for them to wander towards us? Are we supposed to find them? It doesn't make sense, why is it being prolonged?

"Are you all right?" he asks.

"I just don't like this waiting, it's driving me insane," I reply, stopping my voice from shaking.

"Hey," he says, dropping his sword to rub my shoulder, "what ever happens we're going to deal with it together, okay?"

I lean into him, feeling his aura of safety. I want this moment to last forever, but I know it won't. It's the calm before the storm. I see glistening, like somebody's eyes, in the distance and I know our moment is over. It can't be Katniss because if it was one of us would be dead. I hear a low growl.

"Cato..." I say, standing up.

"Get behind me," he says, standing in front of me.

What ever this thing is it stays in the shadows. Its husky breathing getting louder, I feel my heart pounding along with the intense need to flee.

Cato bends down slowly to pick up his sword and when we both take a step back the beast leaps forward. It knocks Cato down the front of the rock but I don't see him land because the thing then turns to me. It bears its long razor-sharp fangs, dripping with drool. Its eyes are human in shape, looking down at me. I'm paralysed with fear as it towers over me. I manage to duck as it leaps forward, over me and hits a tree, giving me time to climb down the rock.

Cato is lying on the ground, unconscious. I look up, checking the wolf isn't there, seeing it's a ten foot drop Cato fell down. There are three deep scratches running down his arm, blood pouring out of them at an alarming rate.

"Cato, wake up!" I shout as I shake him. He continues breathing but doesn't look like he's waking up.

I see the huge wolf stand on the edge of the rock. It doesn't look harmed, just angrier. I violently shake Cato, shouting louder. I thought if we died we'd go down with more of a fight. But one jump of its powerful hind legs would bring that beast down to us and we'd be dead in two seconds.

I look at Cato, then at the snarling monster, then back to Cato. We're going to die. It had better be quick.

"Please," I say to Cato's blank face. But he doesn't wake up and I feel all hope drain from my body.

* * *

**A/N:** Things aren't looking too good for either of them. I think I made it obvious that the gamemakers stopped the rain once the fucking was over. Got any questions don't be afraid to ask. I probably would have finished it sooner I've just been brainstorming for the next story I do. (Yes once this is finished I'm making another one)

**SakuraDrops141:**

It was RueRajaram who gave me the idea of Cato having a possible, I'm still working on how he's going to be incorporated into the story, though. As for Gale, well... at the moment I'm planning on him being both a jerk and a love interest. When I write it it will make more sense.

**Fanlover14:**

Wow, thank you so much, really! I'll try my best not to kill either of them. But you know I'm not going to do that because I'm making an after story. But that could still be done if I kill one of them. I'm sorry, I'm messing with you. As for them living together, _if _both of them win then Peeta wouldn't be allowed to move to Cato's district because Snow is a dick and won't bend the rules. Yes, Snow will be making an appearance. Thank you so much for your kind words (seriously I started squealing). I checked out your stories but I don't know what 'My Babysitter's a Vampire' is but so once I've checked the show/book/film/whatever out I'll tell you. Thanks :)

**RueRajaram:**

You won't be waiting much longer, there are only going to be two more chapters to this story. Not long now!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

What can I do? I can't just leave him here to die. It was a ridiculous thought that I could actually win, anyway. Holding Cato's hand, I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to begin. I doubt it'll be a quick or painless death, that's a luxury people who get this far in the games rarely afford.

Cato grabs my arm, his eyes flashing open. He sees the mutt on top of the rock, preparing to leap. He scrambles up, dodging the beast as it skims past him, crashing into a tree. We both take off, just enough moonlight gives us the vision to not run into trees.

"What the fuck was that?" Cato shouts.

"I have no idea," I say, thankful that my boots don't slow me down, but help me run faster.

I risk looking over my shoulder. It's gaining on us. I take one of my two throwing knives and take aim. Its eyes remind me of Glimmer's. The same shape and same shade of bluey green, yet they look like the eyes of a hound, making it that much more terrifying. It lets out a whimper and I guess that I hit my target.

It gains on us again and I throw my second knife. It misses and doesn't slow it down at all. I throw my dagger making it howl in pain. It must have done more damage since it has a longer blade.

Every few minutes I hear the sound of splintering wood and when I turn around I see that it is running into branches and trees. My knives must have blinded it meaning it has only its nose and ears to guide it. If we start running in zigzags maybe we can get more of a lead.

Ahead of us I see a steep incline. I take Cato's hand and he looks at me uncertainly.

"Trust me," I say.

When we reach the top of the hill I jerk Cato and I to the right. We run along the incline and I listen out for the sound of the mutt behind us. When I look I see it isn't there. It must have toppled down the hill. It won't be long before it follows our scent back to us, though.

Cato doesn't have his sword and I ditched my spear when the beast first attacked. Both of us are unarmed. There's nothing we can do besides out run it. Fortunately, it won't be long until we get to the cornucopia.

I see the occasional shimmer of the lake through gaps in the dense forest. We're nearly there. I push myself forward, pulling Cato along with me. He flinches when I accidentally touch his wound but I need to make him run faster. My feet sting from how hard they smash the ground. The cold wind created as I run pinches my face. I ignore all this as we reach the open field.

I push Cato up onto the ridge in the side of the cornucopia as I see the glistening eyes of three mutts run at us from within the black forest. I give Cato another push to the top of the cornucopia, he tries not to show pain as his wounds are stretched. I manage to climb up as a mutt jumps at the side of the metal, without a second to spare.

They jump and scratch, their claws making terrible squealing noises as they scrape the metal. Cato leans against the tail of the cornucopia, breathing heavily while I look into the forest watching the blinded mutt join the group, making four of them.

Each have similar characteristics of dead tributes. One has eyes like Marvel's. One has dark brown, almost black, eyes like Clove, even its fur is the shade of brown her hair was. The fourth mutt is smaller than the others and doesn't look like it belongs. I guess that's supposed to be the district three tribute.

"Cato, your shoulder,"

From his shoulder down to his elbow are four deep scratches. His arm and left side is stained with blood. How much has he lost? Too much, definitely. It's a shame I don't have my knife any more because ripping a piece of cloth from my shirt proves more difficult than I hoped it would be. I tie the makeshift bandage around his arm, hoping it lessens the blood flow.

I inspect his forehead, a large lump has risen and another on the back of his head. There's nothing I can do to help. Besides end this thing. I can't do that until Katniss and Rue make an appearance.

From the other side of the field I see her come out from the edge of the trees. She drags Rue behind her. When they get half way here I see what's chasing them. Four mutts emerge from the trees, hot on the girls' tail. They're gaining on them fast as I see Rue struggling to keep up.

They both stop, Rue pleading with Katniss. Are they both giving up? The mutts are getting closer. Katniss plants a kiss on Rue's head. They must be giving up. Then Rue runs from Katniss to the mutts.

Her screams are blood curdling. All four crowd around her, giving Katniss time to run. But she doesn't. She shoots an arrow at one of the mutts, distracting it from Rue, making it run for Katniss. She doesn't move, instead she shoots her second arrow, her last one. As soon as she hears the cannon boom she slings her bow over her shoulder and runs again. Of course, she was trying to put Rue out of her pain.

I watch as Rue's mauled body is swallowed by the earth. A part of my mind thankful I didn't have to kill her. The mutts that were feasting on her now chase after Katniss. The black above me is painted with Rue's face, for only a few seconds. It's like she represented everything that is good and pure, and the Capitol didn't just kill her, they made Katniss do it. Another tribute paying the price for our ancestors' mistakes.

From where Rue got eaten by the ground appears another mutt. It joins the pack that is chasing Katniss. She reaches the cornucopia, climbs up to the surface and stands opposite Cato and I. As Cato and Katniss glare at each other I see the mutt with Rue's eyes. It's marginally bigger than the rest and seems more eager to reach us, or Katniss.

"Cato?" I ask, not sure what to do. Are we going to just kill her?

"We could have done it, you know, Peeta," she says, defeat in her voice.

"It's a shame he chose me then, isn't it?" Cato interjects, smugly. She stares at him, her look of anger turning into a look of betrayal. She turns to me.

"Why didn't you just stick with the plan? I thought you wanted us both to win, you don't even know him," she says.

She's right, I don't know him. I _could _ have saved her. Here she is, so hopeless that she isn't even pleading for her life.

"Prim, I love you," she says before breaking into a run. Cato chases her and catches her before she leaps off the edge. She hangs from the mouth of the cornucopia, the mutts swiping at her feet. She pulls herself up to her elbows, then to her waist while Cato stands over her.

"Need a hand?" he asks, mockingly.

She spits at his feet. He stamps on her left hand. She screams in pain and catches herself before she slips off the edge.

"That was close," Cato says with a dark chuckle.

This is the evil side of Cato. The side that isn't any better than the bloodthirsty monsters that are trying desperately to eat us. The side of Cato that doesn't just take lives, but relishes in it. His entire life has been leading up to this and he's not going to let it pass without having fun.

"Cato," I say, "you don't have to be a monster."

He turns and looks at me, his smile fading.

"I'm sorry you have to see this, Peeta." he says, turning back.

"No," I say, firmly, "if you do you're no better than them. You've shown me what kind of person you can be. That person isn't a cold-blooded killer."

"You don't understand. This is my life. Everything I've done, it's been for this moment."

"I know. You've been made to think that killing mercilessly is everything. But it isn't. What we have, what we could have, is far better and you know it. You and me. We could end it now, no fancy show, no brutal fight. We could do what needs to be done and get it over with,"

"Oh, Peeta," he says, running to me.

I wrap my arms around him, my head burrows into his shoulder. He pulls away and faces me then gives me the sweetest kiss. I've gotten through to him. I knew he was better than that. He pulls away and stares deeply into my eyes, as I do into his.

"I love you," he says. So simple are those three words but they have the force of a desert storm.

"Cato, I-" something catches my eye. Katniss is hanging by her waist, in her hands a bow and arrow. Where did she get the arrow from? "Move!" I shout, pushing Cato to the side. There isn't an arrow in Katniss' bow any more.

"Peeta!" Cato screams.

**Cato**

I see the arrow protruding from Peeta's stomach. Where the fuck did she get it from? Blood gushes out and I manage to catch him as he falls. He looks up at me, gormless and confused. A maroon pool spreads on the ground.

"Don't do this to me, Peeta," I plead, watching his eyes grow more vacant. I ignore my shoulder as the weight of Peeta stretches my wounds open.

"I just need..." he says, trying to lift his hand.

"Don't move, just keep talking, come on, what do you need?" I rush, cradling him, a tear rolls down my cheek.

"I'm just a bit tired is all," he says, eyes half closed.

"No, stay with me, Peeta, stay with me. You saved me, now I'm going to save you. You made me a better person. Please, Peeta. I love you, don't do this," I cry, my tears fall to his forehead.

His eyes roll up into the sockets as I try shake him awake.

"Peeta!" I scream, trembling, kissing his forehead.

"No!" I cry after the cannon fires.

I've never cried this hard in my life. It's not fair. We were so close to winning. If I had just killed Katniss simply this wouldn't have happened.

I lay him down, still shaking and give him one last kiss. I walk to the edge of the cornucopia. Katniss is going to pay for taking him from me. She's going to rue the day she was born.

* * *

**A/N:** Alas, the next chapter shall be the last. Please don't hate me for what I did in this chapter. I only need four more reviews until I'm at sixty, so maybe the sixtieth reviewer gets a preview/gets to read the last chapter a week before I publish it? Needless to say, please review and thanks for reading!

**sOMEBODYsTRANGE: **

I don't remember much of the first few chapters either :') I agree, they are cute.

**RueRajaram: **

Yes, there will be a sequel. I'm hoping to make it 100000x better than this. Also, I killed Rue as quick and painless as I could (I planned for her just to get mauled to death, so Katniss mercy killing her saved her at least ten minutes of agony)

**JustThrowTheSword: **

You. Are. Amazing. Thank you so much, seriously, you don't even know how grateful I am. (please don't hate me because of what I did to Peeta)


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**Cato**

I lean back into my plush chair, laughing at an amusing anecdote told by Caesar Flickerman, my interviewer.

He's beside himself as I recount the story of when Peeta found the bottle of lube in the bag we won at the feast. The audience is in hysterics and even Peeta, sitting next to me cracks a smile.

"I'm telling you, Caesar I've seen tomatoes paler than his face was," I say, another roar of laughter erupting from the crowd.

"Oh, mercy," Caesar says, holding his stomach.

He leans forward, his smile fading into a solemn look, the laughter dies down and a hush falls on the crowd.

"Cato," he begins, I brace myself as I know what he's going to bring up, "in the arena there was a moment where the heart of everybody in this room broke for you. Am I right?" They all nod their agreement.

Caesar directs the attention of the audience to the huge screen behind us. It shows a clip of Peeta in my arms, his blood covering us both, then me crying after I hear the cannon, thinking he's dead.

"What was going through your mind when you heard the cannon?" Caesar asks, his voice soft as silk.

"I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy," I reply. There's a moment of tense quiet before the sound of a woman in the back row bursting into tears echoes throughout the room.

"Your face when you realize Peeta's still alive is priceless," Caesar says, lightening the mood as he directs the audience's attention back to the screen where a freeze-frame of me is displayed. It catches me mid-blink, making me look drunk, the audience gets a good laugh out of it.

"Peeta, I bet you're confused. Can you explain what happened, Cato?" Caesar suggests.

"Well, you know we thought Katniss only had five arrows?" I ask and Peeta nods, "If you remember, when we chased her up the tree Glimmer shot an arrow at her and Katniss kept it. So when she was hanging off the edge of the cornucopia she still had an arrow left and she managed to shoot you before she fell off. When I heard the cannon I thought you'd died when it was actually Katniss who had."

"Oh," he says, taking my hand, "I never realized. I'm sorry that happened, I won't do anything like that again"

"It wasn't your fault," I say with a light laugh.

"Still, I never want you to feel like that,"

A round of aw's come from the audience. Peeta looks apologetically at me.

"Sheesh, get a room," Caesar mutters playfully.

He conducts us through the rest of the interview and the conversation between the three of us runs seamlessly.

"You two sort of clicked, didn't you?" Caesar asks, after showing the audience some clips of Peeta and I.

"Yeah, as soon as we met we realized there was like a connection and we found out we had lots in common. It was like meeting a kindred spirit," I say, looking into Peeta's eyes as he nods.

"There were some moments where you didn't get along, though weren't there?" Caesar asks.

"There was that petty argument we had over that crate," Peeta says, "do you remember?"

"Do I remember?" Caesar asks sarcastically, "I could smell the testosterone from here. You had to vent afterwards, didn't you Cato?"

The screen shows a night vision camera catching me masturbating. Before I let embarrassment show on my face I begin to laugh.

"What can I say? He's hot when he's angry," I say, Peeta now the embarrassed one.

Caesar talks us through the rest of the games, going through the death of each of our allies. I see Marvel getting a knife from Clove. Glimmer's body deforming from so many stings. Three dying in his sleep from his infected stings. Clove dying for the same reasons.

"Well, that's all we've got time for, folks. We'll be looking forward to the Victory Tour in a few months time. But for now, the winners of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games: Cato Ludwig and Peeta Mellark!"

The deafening cheers last for a few minutes then Peeta and I exit the stage, still holding hands.

* * *

**Peeta**

"Well done, Peeta!" Effie says as she pops open a bottle of champagne, the cork ricochets off the train wall. Haymitch and I hold our glasses as she pours a generous amount in each one.

"Why don't you get Cato, he'll want to celebrate too," she suggests.

As I walk down the long passenger carriages I try a sip of champagne. It tastes horribly bitter. I pass a potted plant and tip the contents in there.

I stand outside Cato's door. The window shows the countryside whizzing past. That's where I'm going. I'm going home. I haven't spoken to Cato since our interview. The first thing he did when we got on the train was go to his bunk. For some reason I delay knocking on his door.

My knuckles hover over his door, I close my eyes and knock. After waiting with no reply I knock again. Have I done something to annoy him? I look down at the doorknob and I see there isn't a lock. I could walk in. I decide against it, I guess he just needs time.

As much as I want to return to my district I can't help but dread what I will return to. It's been twenty-four years since there was a district twelve victor and he's an alcoholic shut-in. Maybe that's what will happen to me. But I could have won with Katniss, not Cato. She could be returning home with me today and everybody knows that. I won't be winning any popularity contests upon my return. Maybe they'll cut me some slack, I didn't exactly know that there could be two winners.

Why did I choose Cato? It's something that just happened. It's got to be connected to the night before the games, somehow. I've been able to go back and think about it since the anti-venom but haven't for fear of what I might find, Cato gave me amnesia for a reason. He said he planted thoughts in my head. I've assumed up to this point he made me attracted to him, which I thought was unnecessary because I was attracted to him, anyway.

In spite of the voice telling me not to, I think back to the days before the games. Katniss and I were planning to be team-mates and even though I knew one of us would die, I was willing to do it. Then the night before the games, while having sex, Cato kept telling me I would become a Career.

That's the reason I chose him over Katniss. Now I know it wasn't me who did the choosing. He knew that once I became a career I'd be putty in his hands. I've known that part of our relationship needed to be faked to ensure our survival. But this, it makes me feel like I've been manipulated from the start. There's no knowing what was real and what was just for show. I figured that getting feelings for Cato would be easier than pretending to have feelings for him. I let myself get fooled by him when I should have known better. I need a drink.

I return to Haymitch and Effie, watching TV and laughing at a commercial for washing up liquid. It ends with a catchy tune and they repeat it back to each other, finding it funnier than it actually is. Effie drains the last of the champagne, drinking straight from the bottle. She must be drunk if she's ignoring basic manners.

"Peeta!" she shouts, noticing me enter the carriage, "Come on, the party hasn't even started,"

"I don't know," I say, slouching into a chair. I play with one of the polished knives, watching the light reflect off it.

She sloppily makes her way to the drinks cabinet, grabbing crystal bottles of different coloured shining liquids. Haymitch copies her and they both put their collected bottles on the table in front of me. Most of them are dark browns and purples, some are clear while others are bright green or blue, standing out.

"Which one?" she asks, indicating the gleaming drinks.

"I don't know what any of them taste like," I say.

"No, which one first?" she asks.

I start with a glass of wine, each new year since I was thirteen my father has given me a glass to celebrate. It doesn't taste much better than champagne, but I grin and bear it as I down the rest. Effie then pours me some blue liquid, it looks like it will taste nice, but I can't let that fool me.

"What is this?" I ask as I smell it, noticing it has a fruity aroma.

"It's a vodka mix, try it, you'll like it," she says, pouring herself a glass, spilling some.

I take a sip and like the sweet taste. I gulp down the rest and pour myself a second glass. Finally, a drink I actually like.

By the third glass I begin to feel better though my head is quite foggy. I've stopped thinking about Cato, and I've joined in with the shenanigans of Haymitch and Effie. When he drops his glass and it shatters on the floor I can't help but laugh. When Effie trips over her chair I laugh then, too.

Effie lines five small glasses in front of me. She pours each one with a different drink, no more than a mouthful in each. She indicates I drink one. I pick it up and go to take a sip.

"No, don't drink it like that," she says, "here, watch me,"

She picks one up, puts it to her lips and tips her head back in one jerk, sending the drink down her throat. She screws up her face then slaps down the empty glass. I feel compelled to copy her despite how her face is telling me it will taste bad. I choose a glass with what looks like water in it, lulling me into a false sense of security when in reality it tastes like fire is burning its way down my throat.

"Ah!" I say, before drinking from a bottle thinking it's water only to find it's the very same drink. I spit it out, Effie and Haymitch doubled over laughing, while I frantically search for some real water.

I see a vase of daffodils, my only safe bet. Not thinking, I pull the flowers out and drink deeply. Once I've recovered I see Haymitch, Effie and even the Avoxes staring at me. Effie begins to laugh and Haymitch slumps onto the sofa, a smirk on his face.

By my fourth 'shot', as Effie calls them, the carriage is wrecked. It's like the voice of reason has vanished and I decide to do the exact opposite of what I usually would. The chairs are overturned, empty bottles litter the floor and throw pillows are strewn everywhere.

"Hey Effie," I say, sipping the green drink, spilling a lot on myself, not noticing how it burns my mouth, "Haymitch is asleep,"

He lies on the cushion less sofa, snoring loudly, an empty flask in his hand. Effie crawls over to him, some of her orange curls falling loose, giggling cheekily. She produces a black marker pen and scrawls on his face. She focuses hard on what she's writing but when I take a closer look none of it is readable. They're just black scribbles on his face.

"Oh Peeta," she says inspecting her work, "I think I'd better get some sleep, we've got a big day tomorrow,"

She picks up her discarded heels and makes her way down the corridor, bumping into the walls as she goes. I lie back on the floor, I feel like I'm flying. I don't feel tired at all. Maybe Cato's awake.

I wait for the voice to tell me not to but I remember that it isn't there any more. I stand up, clinging to the wall until I'm stable. The corridor seems to turn as I walk down it, my hands firmly hold the window pane to stop me from falling over.

I stand outside what I'm sure is Cato's room. I begin to sway as I wonder what I will say. Am I going to start an argument? Before I realize it I've already walked into his room. He's asleep in his bed at the centre of the room. He sits straight up when he sees me stumble in.

"Cato, we need to talk," I say, letting myself sit on his bed.

"What the fuck, Peeta have you been drinking?" he says in a shocked and displeased tone.

"Maybe a little," I reply, trying not to laugh. I should be bothered by how angry he looks.

"Can you just go to bed? I'm tired," he says. I notice he's topless, his golden hair is a mess and his eyes are half open. Why does that turn me on?

I lean forward and lightly kiss his lips that look so soft in the dim light. He looks at me pained and confused. He doesn't look annoyed or unwilling but doesn't look wanting either. I kiss him again, my tongue tracing his lips. He kisses back but it doesn't feel like he's into it.

"What's wrong?" I ask, fearing what the answer may be.

"Peeta, I..." he tries, not looking at me, "never mind."

He places his hand on my cheek and kisses me, gradually pulling himself on top of me. His kisses become rougher, more passionate. No, not passionate, eager. Like he's kissing somebody he has seen in a long time. It doesn't make sense. Something feels wrong. I pause, just so I can look into his eyes, his calming blue eyes.

It's like twilight has been placed inside two orbs as I look into his eyes for a millisecond. I see a flash of guilt before he looks away and starts kissing my neck.

"All right, what's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," he replies as he begins to unbutton my shirt.

"No, seriously," I say as I shuffle into a sitting position.

"Can we not talk about it?" he says, trying to kiss my neck.

"Cato, what's the matter?"

"I have a boyfriend!" he snaps back, raising his voice. He puts his head in his hands with a long, drawn out sigh.

"You have a boyfriend?" I ask with a sarcastic laugh. The words escape my mouth before I can process them.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. I just..."

"...meant to use me?" I suggest, finishing his sentence.

"I didn't want any of this to happen, I didn't think I'd get this... involved" he says, his head still buried in his hands.

"Oh really?" I say with more sarcastic laughter, "You thought you could fake an entire relationship without there being any consequences? While in a relationship with a complete other person? Are you really that stupid? I guess you didn't expect me to last long, did you? You'd be back with him before any damage was done."

"Peeta, stop it," He says, his eyes becoming glassy.

"Why? Is it too much to hear the truth, Cato?"

"What would you have done? I didn't expect them to change the rules, you know. I was _glad _that we could both win, I wanted us to. Can't we just focus on that?"

"Well how can I trust you? You're good at making me do that and it hasn't done me any favours so far. How do I know what was for me and what was for the Capitol? I mean, I gave myself to you, Cato."

"No you didn't, you were forced to, lucky I helped put it off for you"

"In front of them. I was forced to do it on national TV. You think I wouldn't have done it without a second of hesitation if it was just us two? Wait, you helped put it off?"

He hesitantly looks at me, I see him choose his words carefully.

"I knew you didn't want to so I... Gave you more anti-venom than you needed," he says, like it's nothing.

"You _what?_" I think back to the fever I had got after taking the anti-venom and thinking how kind Cato was to be looking after me.

I stand up, my head does flips and I find nothing to hold on to. Cato catches me before I fall.

"Whoa, you've had a lot to drink," he says, laying me down.

"No, let me go," I say as I try resist the comfort of a blanket being pulled over me. I make vain attempts at sitting up but I haven't realized how tired I am. I reluctantly find myself succumbing to Cato as he soothingly strokes my hair, sending me into a peaceful sleep.

I wake up with a terrible head ache. I bury my face in my pillow when I realize Cato is lying next to me.

"My head..." I groan.

"Yeah, that's a hangover," he says with a chuckle, "look I'm sorry for everything. I really am. It might not to be easy seeing each other every year, I know it won't be for me, but can we put this behind us? It's not like we'd be able to have a future, anyway. We can at least focus on being alive? I don't want you to hate me for doing what I did,"

"I was very drunk last night, a lot of things I said... I probably shouldn't have. Yeah, we're good," I say, my eyes barely open.

I close my eyes as I hear Cato turn the shower on. At least this time I know that it's him who's in there. I let my mind drift and follow a random trail of thought, knowing I should get as much rest as I can. In the words of Effie: today is going to be a big big big day!

* * *

**A/N: **So this is the end of this story. Yes, I'm going to be making another, but they're just different ideas at this point. An idea I'm working on is the possibility of Gale becoming an important person for Peeta. I know I've given the impression that it's over between Cato and Peeta but possibly as I introduce Gale and Cato's boyfriend that could make them open their eyes. I don't know, it's just a thought.

I hope I executed this chapter well. I did plan on revealing Peeta is still alive in the previous chapter but I decided not to. Just to clear up an confusion: Peeta got shot while Katniss was hanging on for life, Cato was so focused on Peeta that he didn't notice Katniss falling and dying, when he heard the cannon he thought it was for Peeta but when he went to Katniss to go kill her and finding her dead he realized Peeta was alive.

I know this may sound weird but the reason I haven't updated sooner is because I couldn't think of a second name for Cato. I knew that I'd have to think of one eventually so I just used the second name of the actor who portrayed him in the film.

I don't know how long it will be before the next story. I have an idea for a Doctor Who story from the season four episode The Unicorn and the Wasp. If any you guys have watched it you might remember that Lady Edison's son Rodger had a thing going on with one of the servant boys? I rewatched the episode a while ago and got fascinated by the possibility of a story. So if any of you are fans of Doctor Who that may be something to look forward to.

Wow, I went full rant. Okay, I hope you enjoyed it and everybody who reviewed I love you all. If you've made it to the end of my story then you probably liked it so I hope you know how grateful I am, you're awesome! Thanks for reading.

P.s. there were so many reviews and they mostly revolved around one thing: Peeta's 'death'. So I'll just say I'm sorry for leading you all into thinking Peeta was dead, I maybe shouldn't have done that.

**Update:** Okay, I'm having trouble with the sequel and I'm coming to you guys for help. The more I think about it, Cato was a huge douche to Peeta and like Dreamless kounichi said, Peeta should be more pissed off him. So it would only make sense for Peeta to try forget Cato, but the more involved Gale gets with Peeta, the less chance I see Cato and Peeta working. At the same time Gale and Peeta seems more likely. Does that make sense? As much as I want to be in control of what I'm writing I also want you guys to tell me what you want, so if you don't mind me doing with the story what I want, then fine, I will. If you want to give me a suggestion then please please message me, it will give me some peace of mind.

**New update:** I've written about 4k words on the first chapter of the sequel. Not sure how long until it'll be finished. Still, if any of you want a preview don't be afraid to ask. I still need to think of a title for it.


	17. Preview

This is just an idea that I had to get down and wanted to share with you. It should be pretty self explanatory but this is the Victory Tour beginning in district twelve, where Cato and Peeta reunite.

* * *

**Preview**

"Peeta, darling!" Cato calls across the district twelve town square. He sashays towards me, dodging his way past cameramen, stage hands, and all manner of busy people in preparation for the beginning of the highly anticipated Victory Tour. His hands swing with his hips in such an odd fashion, like a handbag deserves to be in his firm grasp. He wears knee length onyx shorts, showing off his smooth calves, and a tight charcoal grey t-shirt. As he gets closer I see how different his hair is. It was once like hay, gold in the sunlight. Now it's slick, shiny and combed back, like a frozen wave of cream. It matches the plastic look his orange toned skin emits.

"God, I've missed you, honey," he sighs, swiftly kissing me on each cheek with a 'mwah!'. It's not a proper kiss, it's like he's kissing the air next to my face. I notice he has a sparkling diamond stud in each ear. What the hell has happened to him? Luckily there are no cameras rolling to catch my disgusted look. Our 'reunion' will be scripted and filmed beforehand, which is what the bustling crowd are preparing for now. There's too much pressure on us, well me, to get it right. He skips away to the make-up department, while I stand, gawping at what I just witnessed. I watch as he struts around the corner. He blends in with the dull aesthetic of district twelve, while managing to attract everybody's attention. I guess that's what he's been learning to do in his spare time.

* * *

Like I said, it's just an idea. Just to let you guys know I am working on the story. When it comes to me actually writing this part of the story I may keep it like this, depends on the feedback.

As you can tell it's focusing on Cato. What I'm aiming for here is Cato being a victim of what (I assume) most gay guys go through. That post coming out stage where all the girls want you to be their gay best friend and you suddenly act really camp. Except with him it's x1000000 because he seems to be the idol of millions.

Please leave reviews and let me know what you think. The more I get the more motivated I am to update, it's as simple as that. Thanks.

**Update:** This isn't a preview, it's just a little idea I had that I'm not going to use. I just wanted to let you know I was still working on the story.


	18. Preview 2

**Preview 2**

Perfect. A word I'm never in tune with. Do I like the word? Yes and no. It can be confused with perfection. To me perfection is where nothing could possibly be better. Perfection is where you've never felt hunger, sadness or loss. Where you live a long life with somebody who loves you as fully and faithfully as you do. Where things feel so good it's beyond your imagination. However impossible.

Perfect, though, is entirely possible. Even if it is always short lived. You can have a perfect minute, hour, day even. Hell, you can have a perfect year. But it always ends prematurely. It never lasts. As soon as it is described as perfect you are condemning it to its finish.

That's how I sentenced our relationship to death. He lay underneath me, his warm breath on my cheek, his seed spattered across his chest, my seed deep inside him. He unscrunched his eyes and looked deep into mine. Ecstasy flowed through my body, like a haze powering over everything else. It was then I could only describe it as perfect.

That was the night before the reaping, after a long summer we'd spent in the woods hunting, talking and kissing. We knew we had one night left until I'd have to leave for a month to be a mentor. A night we'd have to make the most of. Then once I was done with the games the possibilities were endless. As long as we kept a low profile we could do anything. Or so I thought.

I didn't take the time to really think how low Snow could sink to send a message. I should have considered the repercussions of being in a relationship with somebody when the Capitol thought I was madly in love with someone else. Just hours earlier my lover had asked me to run away with him, just run into the wild to live together. I should have said yes, because it's him who will pay the price for my mistakes. It is him, Gale Hawthorne, who is district twelve's male tribute for the 75th annual Hunger Games.

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**A/N:** These are just some thoughts I've been having about the sequel (which I still haven't given a title) that I've turned into words. It gives away one thing that's going to happen. Two things, actually. It's from Peeta's POV, obviously, but I'm not sure where in the plot it's placed. It will make more sense once I've written the story. It probably raises a lot of questions that I can only answer by either giving away the story or actually writing the story. For those of you interested in how it's going, I'm having trouble getting the story started. I reckon once I get over this writer's block then I'll be writing frequently. I hope this is taken better than the previous preview, I don't know what I was on. As usual please review because it motivates me and makes me want to write. Thanks.

**Update:** The first chapter of the sequel is up. The story's called 'Aftermath'.


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